“If only we knew what to do with you, Delphia,” Fiona said.
“What are you doing today?” Papa asked Fiona.
“I’ve several care baskets to take to the sick,” Fiona said. “Theo left me a list last night, and Lizzie and I put them together this morning.”
“Before breakfast?” Delphia shook her head as if this were the most outlandish thing she’d ever heard. “You really are a saint, Fiona.” She tapped the side of her head and spoke with a strange accent. “Myself? I couldn’t do it. Me old head needs food straightaway.”
I covered my mouth, afraid the spoonful of eggs I’d just put in there were going to fly out from my bark of laughter.
“Me head is not proper English,” Addie said, not unkindly, but merely stating a fact.
“I know that,” Delphia said. “I only said it to make Cym laugh.”
“When have you heard a cockney accent?” Papa asked.
Cockney? Apparently Papa was familiar.
“One of the kids in my class. His family just moved from there,” Delphia said. “I imitate him and make everyone laugh.”
“Delphia Barnes, you are forbidden to do that ever again.” We all jumped slightly at Mama’s raised voice. She hardly ever spoke a harsh word to any of us. However, the one thing she wouldn’t tolerate was unkindness to others.
“But why?” Delphia asked. “Everyone thinks it’s so funny.”
Mama leaned over the table and spoke sternly to Delphia. “I can assure you that the little boy you’re imitating doesn’t think so. You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re a girl with everything, which means you have to be even better than everyone else. Kinder. Gentler. More sensitive to others’ feelings. Do you understand me?”
Delphia’s bottom lip quivered. “Yes, Mama.”
“The other children look up to you and will do what you do. If you’re mean, they will be too.”
“Why do they look up to me?” Several tears caught in Delphia’s thick lashes.
“They just do,” I said. “You’re that kind of girl.”
“That’s right,” Mama said. “You have a responsibility as a Barnes to make sure that all new children feel welcome here.”
For once, Delphia knew better than to ask another question. She nodded, then lowered her head. A tear traveled down her cheek and landed in her lump of eggs.
“You’ll march right in there today and tell him you’re sorry,” Mama said. She looked over at Papa. “We’ll send them something. A welcome gift.”
“I could take something out to them today during my rounds,” Fiona said.
“Good idea,” Mama said. “Does Lizzie have any cakes down there?”
“She does. One of her white ones,” Fiona said.
“Take that one,” Mama said. “I’ll write a quick note before you leave.”
“But that’s my favorite cake,” Delphia said.
Mama whipped her head around to glare at her youngest offspring. “You, young lady, wouldn’t be having a piece even if cake were served to us tonight,” Mama said. “As a matter of fact, you’ll have no dessert for the rest of the week.”
Delphia looked crestfallen but again was wise enough to remain quiet.
“Come along,” I said to my little sisters. “Let’s get you to school. It’s going to be chilly all day, so you should wear your hats.” I turned to Mama. “Does Florence need a ride?” Florence was Jasper and Lizzie’s daughter. The same age as Addie, she often rode to school with us.
“Not today. Jasper wanted to take her,” Mama said. “He had to go into town anyway.”
I swallowed one more bite of eggs and then ushered the two of them out the door and into the hallway. Lizzie had placed their lunch buckets by the bench next to the door. I helped them into their coats. “Wipe your eyes,” I said to Delphia. “Time to start our day, and it’s best to shake off our mistakes before we go.”
“All right,” Delphia said in a meek voice. “I’m going to be good like Addie all day.”
“Good for you,” I said. And good luck, I thought. She was too much like me to be able to keep that promise.
A few minutes later, we were headed down the rocky driveway to the road that took us into town. Usually Delphia chattered away, but she was subdued by the tongue-lashing of her mother and looked out the window with a forlorn expression.
“Delphia, do you understand why Mama got angry with you?” I asked.
“Not really. I thought she liked it when I made people laugh.”
“She likes it when you make me laugh,” Addie said. “But not at the expense of others.”
“What does expense of others mean?” Delphia asked as she brushed another tear from her black lashes. The child was way too pretty for her own good. With her golden hair and blue eyes, she looked like a toy doll.
“It means you made someone feel bad in order to make others laugh,” I said.
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings,” Delphia said. “I didn’t even think about it.”
“That’s Mama’s concern. You must think before you do things. Think about who it might hurt. Do you understand?”
“I guess so.” She didn’t say anything for a moment. “How do you tell if it will make someone feel bad?”
“If you want to make people laugh, it’s better to make fun of yourself rather than someone else,” I said. “That way you know you won’t hurt anyone’s feelings.”
“Did you like to make people laugh when you were my age?” Delphia asked.
“No, I didn’t care about that. I just wanted to win everything.”
“Did you?” Addie asked.