"Just think, Jack, of elderberry bushes seven feet around," Nan went on, "and of pumpkins weighing three hundred pounds; they beat mine all hollow, don't they? Do you like Mrs. Roberts, Jack?"
"Oh, she is fine," returned Jack, enthusiastically. "She wants Mary Lee for a daughter. I shouldn't be surprised if she asks mother for her."
"What?" Mary Lee stopped short in her measurement of a tall calla lily.
Jack nodded. "Yes, she does. She wants one of us and I thought you'd be the best for her."
"Jack Corner, I'd like to know what you mean by thinking my mother would give me away?" Mary Lee was righteously indignant.
"Why," said Jack calmly, "wouldn't you like to be Mr. St. Nick's granddaughter? I would. He wants one the worst kind; he told me he did."
"Well, he won't get me," retorted Mary Lee, walking off with an offended air.
"Who won't get who?" asked Mr. Pinckney, into whom in her dudgeon she almost ran.
Mary Lee stopped short. "Oh, it is just some of Jack's nonsense," she said.
"She doesn't want to be your granddaughter," said Jack in an explanatory tone, "and I don't see how we'll manage it unless you were to have Jean and me both. I told her, too, that you never had had any granddaughter."