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Maddy, turning and approaching Bershada, “I’ve changed my mind again. I’d prefer to just sit in the audience with everyone else.”
    â€œOh, but you can’t!” said Bershada. “You agreed to sit with the other six people who are the top knitters donating toys!”
    â€œI know, I know. But I just . . . can’t. All those people, staring at me. I just can’t.” Her usual truculent expression was overridden by something like fear.
    And suddenly Betsy gained a new insight into Maddy O’Leary, she of the rude tongue and haughty attitude: She was actually shy.
    But Bershada persisted. “They won’t be looking at you, they’ll be watching Max Irwin in action, calling on people to raise their bids.” She made an attempt to imitate an auctioneer’s chant. “Hey, now here’s a ten, a ten dollar, do I hear twelve, say a twelve, say a twelve!” She waved her arms as if pointing at individuals in a crowd and took a few steps back and forth. “Twelve, I’ve got twelve dollars—sold!” She continued in her usual tone of voice, “No one will be paying any attention to the seven of you, trust me!”
    â€œThen why ask us to sit there?”
    â€œBecause we will introduce you at the start—”
    â€œSee?” interrupted Maddy.
    â€œBut that will take maybe three minutes, spread over seven people. That’s what, ten seconds of focus on you? And remember, as I told you long ago, we’re giving each of you a ball of yarn and a pair of knitting needles. You don’t have to look back at the audience. You can concentrate on your knitting. I told you that, and you said okay, that you’d just sit there and knit.”
    Bershada fell silent, and Betsy bit her tongue. Maddy kept drawing a breath to say something, then didn’t say it,but finally she tossed her head and said in a hard tone, “Very well, you’re right, I did say I’d do it. But I’m not happy about it.”
    â€œI understand. And thank you. The amazing number of your contributions will go far to make this auction a success.”
    â€œWell, if I’d known you were going to make such a fuss, I wouldn’t have given you anything.” And on that ungracious note, Maddy turned on her heel and left the shop.
    â€œThat was well done!” said Betsy. “She’s a difficult person, but you handled her beautifully!”
    Godwin asked, “Bershada, are you all in a swivet about the auction tomorrow?” He liked finding and resurrecting old-fashioned terms.
    â€œSwivet?”
    â€œYou know, nervous.”
    â€œNot now, because I’ve nailed Maddy to that chair at the front of the room.”
    â€œThat was a great idea, giving those seven honorees balls of yarn and needles to keep their hands busy during the auction,” said Betsy. “You and the rest of the committee are doing a fine job. This is going to be a real success.”
    â€œI sure hope so. We’ve been working hard. Thank you, by the way, for donating the yarn, needles, and little canvas bags to hold them in.” Bershada had come up with the idea nearly a month ago, giving Betsy the task of calling the honorees to see what kind of yarn they wanted in their bags.
    â€œThe bags say CREWEL WORLD in nice big letters, so I’m calling it an advertising expense,” said Betsy with a smile.
    â€œNevertheless, thank you,” repeated Bershada. “Now I’ve got to run. We’re setting up the chairs in the atrium today.”
    After she left, Godwin said, “Whew-ee, I’m glad I didn’t get nominated to that committee! Way too much work!”

Chapter Five

    B etsy had stayed after closing that Friday. The auction was tomorrow, Saturday, and she had some packing up to do. Over the past few weeks, Betsy had filled two big cardboard boxes with over a hundred knitted animals. She brought them up from the