He moved his chair closer and took her two hands. “Look me in the face,” he said, “and tell me truthfully whether or not I saw something in those lovely eyes of yours a while ago that makes me hope that you will agree to the name of Happy House. You and fiddle and I together, think of it, Cronette, and don’t you know it would please Uncle Pete?”
Ellen raised her eyes shyly, but what Reed saw there appeared to satisfy him. And then came a flurry of opening the front door, and a crisp call of “Ellen, come help me in with these things.”
Ellen dashed out; Reed followed. “I want to help, too,” he said.
Miss Rindy set down a netted bag full of her purchases. “Hello!” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Just passing by and thought I’d drop in,” answered he.
“Don’t palm off that sort of talk on me,” replied Miss Rindy. “Come on in and give an account of yourself.”
“You won’t put me to bed, like that other time? It’s too cold to climb out windows.”
“I noticed you didn’t stay put long. Come in and give an account of yourself. Has Ellen told you our news?”
“Yes, and I’ve told her mine. Shall we tell her ours, Ellen?”
Ellen made no reply, but rushed out to the kitchen with the bag and bundles. When she came back the two were sitting on the sofa, Reed’s arm around Miss Rindy. She looked as if she had been crying, but at Ellen’s entrance she sat up very straight and tried to look stern.