"That's the worst of it. You have to have one to earn money to buy the proper tools. But it's a great nuisance to have a husband around, Bridget says. She's had three; and she'd rather cook for Satan himself, she says, than a husband!"
"Jeannette! You mustn't repeat Bridget's conversations. Does Mrs. Huntington like you to talk to the servants?"
"No," returned Jeanne, blushing a little. "But—but sometimes I just have to talk. You see—well, you see—"
"Yes?"
"Well, Bridget likes to be talked to. I'm not sure, always, that anybody else—well, it's easy to talk to Bridget."
"How about me?"
"You come next," assured Jeanne.
The next day Jeanne returned from school with her big black eyes fairly sparkling. She went at once to her grandfather's room.
"I've decided what I'm going to do," said Jeanne. "I'm going to be married."
"Why?" asked her grandfather.