Before long Lucinda's third cousin demanded her assistance in "moving,"
and there was nothing for poor Arethusa to do but to take up the burden,
now become a fearfully heavy one.
Aunt Mary was getting to that period in life when the nearer the relative
the greater the dislike, so that when her niece arrived the welcome which
awaited her was even less cordial than ever.
"Did you bring a trunk?" she asked.
"A small one," replied the visitor.
"That's something to be grateful for," said the aunt. "If I'd invited you
to visit me, of course I'd feel differently about things."
Arethusa accepted this as she accepted all things, unpacked, saw Lucinda
off, assumed charge of the house, and then dragged a rocking chair to her
aunt's bedside and unfolded her sewing. Ere she had threaded her needle
Aunt Mary was sound asleep, and so her niece sewed placidly for an hour or
more, until, like lightning out of a clear sky:
"Arethusa!"
The owner of the name started--but answered immediately:
"Yes, Aunt Mary."
"When I die I want to be buried from a roof garden! Don't you forget!
You'd better go an' write it down. Go now--go this minute!"
Arethusa shook as if with the discharge of a contiguous field battery. She
had not had Lucinda's gradual breaking-in to her aunt's new trains of
thought.
"Aunt Mary," she said feebly at last.
Aunt Mary saw her lips moving; she sat up in bed and her eyes flashed
cinders.
"Well, ain't you goin'?" she asked wrathfully.
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