“Go long into the house wid ye, ye two, an’ I’ll finish up. Ye might be gittin’ the vegetables for dinner, Nancy, an’ I’ll come make a puddin’. I beeta be makin’ one in honor of the stranger.”
“You’d better not be giving me too good a dinner,” said Parker, “or you’ll be putting my supper to shame.”
“No fear o’ that. In wid ye.” She brandished her stick, and the two departed to the garden to gather such early vegetables as they might find ready for use.
“It’s been a long time since I saw you,” said Parker, speaking his thought.
“Yes?” Agnes was well aware of it, and was disposed to be a little distant in consequence, though she well knew his reason for absenting himself. “I have been busy, too, and I have been two or three times to see Jeanie. The last mail brought good news from Archie; he is hard at work and hopes by diligence to complete his course in a less time than we at first thought he could. He wrote me quite a long letter; he really can write more freely than he can talk.” She looked serenely unconscious as Parker stole a glance at her.
“I suppose you were delighted to hear from him?”
“Oh, yes. Who wouldn’t be glad to hear from an old friend? You would be, wouldn’t you, to hear from Alicia, for example?”
PARKER WATCHED HER FOR A FEW MINUTES, NOT ATTEMPTING TO HELP.
“Agnes!” His voice was reproachful. “I didn’t think you were a coquette.”