But as Molly had not had any notion of the contrary, she only said, "Of
course, why not?" and went on to something really important, saying, in
a very much capitalized statement, "My kitten can WALK! It took THREE
STEPS just now."
After Aunt Frances got her wraps off, Betsy took her for a tour of
inspection. They went all over the house first, with special emphasis
laid on the living-room. "Isn't this the loveliest place?" said Betsy,
fervently, looking about her at the white curtains, the bright flowers,
the southern sunshine, the bookcases, and the bright cooking utensils.
It was all full to the brim to her eyes with happiness, and she forgot
entirely that she had thought it a very poor, common kind of room when
she had first seen it. Nor did she notice that Aunt Frances showed no
enthusiasm over it now.
She stopped for a few moments to wash some potatoes and put them into
the oven for dinner. Aunt Frances opened her eyes at this. "I always see
to the potatoes and the apples, the cooking of them, I mean," explained
Betsy proudly. "I've just learned to make apple-pie and brown betty."
Then down into the stone-floored milk-room, where Aunt Abigail was
working over butter, and where Betsy, swelling with pride, showed Aunt
Frances how deftly and smoothly she could manipulate the wooden paddle
and make rolls of butter that weighed within an ounce or two of a pound.
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