THE SONG OF THE LARK
church shall run you to death this summer, like they used to. I 've spoken my mind to your father about that, and he 's very reasonable. But Maggie talked a good deal about you to people this winter; always asked what word we 'd had, and said how she missed your singing and all. I guess you ought to do that much for her."
"All right, mother, if you think so." Thea lay looking at her mother with intensely bright eyes.
"That 's right, daughter." Mrs. Kronborg rose and went over to get the tray, stopping to put her hand on Thea's chest. "You 're filling out nice," she said, feeling about. "No, I would n't bother about the buttons. Leave 'em stay off. This is a good time to harden your chest."
Thea lay still and heard her mother's firm step receding along the bare floor of the trunk loft. There was no sham about her mother, she reflected. Her mother knew a great many things of which she never talked, and all the church people were forever chattering about things of which they knew nothing. She liked her mother.
Now for Mexican Town and the Kohlers! She meant to run in on the old woman without warning, and hug her.
