Like Gold Rened
one eye, the permanent mischievous grin on her round babyace. She studied her mother with direct, candid eyes, readyto back her big sister Martha in any argument that might getthem both out o the house.
“No,” said Virginia, her voice sotening as she knelt to hug
them both. “Neither o you is going o to school.”
Olivia swung her attention back to Martha. Were theyto throw a tantrum, cajole urther, or let things pass and go
back to playing?But Martha was not ready to give up. “I bet Murphy hasbeen lonesome.”“Murphy is doing just ne.” Virginia rose to her eet andtasted the stew or seasoning. It was ne, she decided as shepushed the pot to the back o the stove. It would be ready or
supper when the men came in rom a long day o working with
the horses. But she had to make the biscuits and the pudding
or dessert. The clock on the wall alerted her that the baby
would soon be waking rom his nap and Mindy would soonbe home rom school.
“Why don’t you play with the blocks Papa made you?”
she encouraged her two daughters.“We already did,” muttered Martha.
“Then play with the dolly house rom Grandpa and
Grandma.”“We did that, too.”“Would you like—”“I want to go outside. That’s what I’d like.”Olivia nodded in vigorous agreement.
“I understand,” said Virginia as she moved to get out a
bowl and ingredients or making the pudding. “But we don’talways get what we want.”
“I know that,” replied Martha with an impatient swingo her arm. “But why can’t we get what we want . . . some‑
times?”“You do. Sometimes.”“Why can’t we