"Why, Jerry," she faltered, "I didn't know you took things that way."
He was answering quite simply, as if he had hardly guessed it either.
"Well, I don't know myself how I'm goin' to take things till I've thought 'em out. That's the only way. Then, after ye've made up your mind, ye can stick to it."
Stella fancied there was a great deal in this to think over, but she creaked the door insinuatingly.
"Well," she said, "I'm awful sorry—"
"I won't keep you stan'in' here in the cold. I'll be over ag'in next Saturday night."
Stella went in and sat down by the hearth and crossed her feet on the head of one of the fire-dogs. She was frowning, and yet she was laughing too. Her mother, moving back and forth, cast inquiring looks at her.
"Well," she ventured at last, "you made it up betwixt ye?"
Stella put down her feet and rose to help.
"Don't you ask me another question," she commanded, rather airily. "It's all over and done with, and I told you so before. Le's pop us some corn by 'n' by."