"Piggy Chambers I call him. He's got loads of money and he is very good looking, and he just pesters Ruthie to death."
"What does she do?"
"She lets him. She likes it, rather."
"Oh, dear!" Elizabeth said.
"You don't have to worry. She's my sister. Piggy Chambers isn't so bad. He's just kind of a bore, you know, and awfully fond of writing letters to Piggy Chambers, Esquire. Lots of grown-up fellows are like that."
"She's your sister, but I love her, too."
"Shouldn't think much of you if you didn't."
They were on their way home by this time, and the post-office crowd had begun to melt away, streaming up and down the street, and into all the cross roads.
"I wish my grandmother would let me come after the mail at night," Elizabeth said. "I have to wait till Judidy or Zeke are ready to come, or Grandfather will take me. As if I wasn't old enough to go out after six o'clock alone."
"It isn't your being old enough, it's the general reputation of the post office being a place where the crowd goes in the evening to—start something. You know yourself that lots of things that go on there don't look very well. It's such a mixed crowd, too."