Chapter 3 - (VERSO)

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went to bed last night.”

The Old Lady turned and went into the house abruptly. This was dreadful. Sylvia must go to that party – she must. But how was it to be managed? Through the Old Lady’s brain passed wild thoughts of her mother’s silk dresses. But none of them would be suitable, even if there were time to make one over. Never had the Old Lady so bitterly regretted her vanished wealth.

“I’ve only two dollars in the house,” she said, “and I’ve got to live on that till the next day the egg pedlar comes round. Is there anything I can sell – anything? Yes, yes, the grape jug!”

Up to this time the Old Lady would as son soon have thought of trying to sell her head as the