MARTHA.

That's no sign you should go plasterin' on that b.u.t.ter like you was a bricklayer tryin' to bust the contractor!

_She takes the bread from Rhoda and sc.r.a.pes the b.u.t.ter thin._

RHODA.

_As the clock strikes five._

It's time for Aunt Mary to have her tea. Shall I make it?

MARTHA.

You make it! Not unless you want to lay her flat on her back again!

_As she flounces out, Annie enters from the hall. She points with one hand at the retreating Martha, with the other toward her mother's room._

ANNIE.

_Sings with sly emphasis._

"Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, Ring dem charmin' bells."

_She climbs upon a chair by the table, and fingers the contents of basket as she sings._

RHODA.

What's got into you, little imp?

ANNIE.

_Brazenly._

I've been peeping through mamma's keyhole.

RHODA.

That's not nice.

ANNIE.

I know it, but the minister's in there and Dr. Littlefield.

RHODA.

_Startled._

Who?

ANNIE.

You know, mamma's doctor.--Oh, he's never come since you've been here.

RHODA.

_In a changed voice, as she takes the child by the shoulders._

What does he look like?

ANNIE.

Don't, you're hurting me!--He's too red in the face, and looks kind of--insulting--and he wears the most _beautiful_ neckties, and--

_Exhausted by her efforts at description._

Oh, I don't know!

_She sings as she climbs down, and goes out by the kitchen door._

"Free grace, undyin' love, Free grace, undyin' love, Free grace, undyin' love, Ring dem lovely bells."

_Dr. Littlefield enters from Mrs. Beeler's room. He speaks back to Beeler on the threshold._

LITTLEFIELD.

Don't bother! I'll find it.

_Looking for something, he approaches Rhoda, who has her back turned._

Beg pardon. Have you seen a pocket thermometer I left here?

_She faces him. He starts back in surprise._

Bless my soul and body! Rhoda Williams!

_He closes the hall door, returns to her, and stands somewhat disconcerted._

Here, of all places!

RHODA.

Mrs. Beeler is my aunt.

LITTLEFIELD.

Well, well! The world is small.--Been here long?

RHODA.