“I’m as well as I ever expect to be,” was the somewhat ungracious answer, and she gave the old bonnet a vicious tug.
“We thought you were away,” Arden told her kindly.
“Who told you that?” she snapped.
“Dick.”
“Hum! Young folks know too much nowadays. It was different in my time. Then children were seen and not heard!”
“Do you—do you object to us taking some of this mistletoe?” asked Arden.
“Mistletoe! That isn’t mistletoe, though lots of folks think it is. No, I can’t say I object. This place isn’t anybody’s now. Do as you like. Turn out the rightful owners!” Her voice was vindictive.
“We aren’t turning anyone out.” Sim tried to make her voice very gentle. Really she felt sorry for the old lady, who did not seem to have the resigned spirit of Granny Howe.
“Well, the state is doing it, and you’re part of the state, aren’t you? I am, so you must be.”
“Yes, I suppose we can call ourselves citizens of the state,” admitted Arden.