“You can’t guess,” he returned.
“Down by the wharf?”
Jerry shook his head. “Somewhere you like. I stayed outside ’most all day, but I got in at last; you know where.”
“Not the garden.”
“Yes, sir, the garden, and what’s more we’re going to see it on Monday. I had a talk with the gardener; his name is John McClure.”
“Really?” Cassy clapped her hands.
“Yes, really.” Jerry winked at his mother. That was not all there was to tell, but he meant to keep the rest a secret.
“I’m glad it’s Saturday night,” said Cassy after a silence, “for now I’ll have all the time I want for thinking about it, for I’ll have no lessons to study and to bother me. Besides, mother won’t have to work to-morrow and she can tell us all about the house where we were born. How long has it been since we left it, mother?”
“Six years,” Mrs. Law told her.
“I remember it a little,” said Jerry. “I remember father, too.”