"Peggy says it isn't harm to tell a fib that don't hurt anybody," said
Anne.
"I hope you told her it was."
"Yes, Miss Margery. I told her we thought it was low-down to tell
stories. And Peggy just laughed and said they wouldn't act so stiff as
to tell the truth all the time.--Miss Margery, when are you going there
again? I do want to go with you. The baby has a new tooth coming. You
can feel it. I want to see it when it comes through. May I go with you
another Saturday?"
"Perhaps."
CHAPTER XXVI
Two weeks passed. Peggy or John Edward or Elmore came duly on Wednesdays
and Saturdays for the grocery orders and reported that the family was
getting on "elegant" or "splendid." One Friday afternoon, a neighbor of
the little brown house flounced into the office.
"It's my dooty to come to you, lady," said Mrs. Flannagan, "and I does
my dooty when it's hard on other folks. You wouldn't give me a bit of
groceries last week, but they tell me you rain down grocery orders on
Mrs. Callahan, and she spendin' money like she was President Bill Taft
or Johnny Rockefeller."
"What do you mean, Mrs. Flannagan? Please explain," said the
long-suffering Charity lady.
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