Mrs. Olmstead loved gossip, and Sara loathed it. The woman delighted in
going to tea-drinkings, and afterward relating in detail every dish
served (with its recipe), and every dress worn upon the momentous
occasion; the girl could not remember a thing she had eaten an hour
later, nor a single detail of any costume.
"But, Sairay," her mother would urge, after the former's visits to Miss
Prue or Mrs. Norris, places to which she was seldom asked herself,
except with great formality once a year perhaps; for the early and life-
long friendship these families had extended to Sara's own mother was not
so freely bestowed upon her successor. "But, Sairay, think! You say Mis'
Jedge Peters from Weskisset was there; _kain't_ you tell what she
wore? Was it black silk, or green cashmere? and was the sleeves coat, or
mutton-leg? and do think if she had on a cap, kain't you?"
"I know she looked very nice," Sara would reply helplessly; "but,
really, I can't think, mother. You see, she was telling about the work
in the hospitals,--the Flower Mission, they call it,--and I was so
interested I couldn't take my eyes off her face."
"Wall, then, the supper, Sairay. You must know what you was eatin',
child! Did Mis' Norris use her rale chany that the cap'n brung over, or
only the gold-banded? And did she hev on them queer furrin' presarves,
with ginger an' spices in 'em, or only home-made?"
"Well, let me see.
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