"The motion is carried," Bob seconded him.
"Subject to mother's consent," Pauline added, a quite unnecessary bit of elder sisterly interference, Patience thought.
"And now, even if it is telling on yourself, suppose you own up, old man?" Jack Ward turned to Tom. "You see we don't in the least credit you with having produced all that village history from your own stores of knowledge."
"I never said you need to," Tom answered, "even the idea was not altogether original with me."
Patience suddenly leaned forward, her face all alight with interest.
"I love my love with an A," she said slowly, "because he's an—author."
Tom whistled. "Well, of all the uncanny young ones!"
"It's very simple," Patience said loftily.
"So it is, Imp," Tracy exclaimed; "I love him with an A, because he's an—A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N!"
"I took him to the sign of The Apple Tree," Bell took up the thread.
"And fed him (mentally) on subjects—antedeluvian, or almost so,"
Hilary added.