"Oh well, bulbs be it," Vincent conceded the point indulgently. He took off his hat in a final salutation to Mrs. Crittenden, and grasping his elderly friend by the arm, moved with him down the flag-paved path.
CHAPTER IV
TABLE TALK
An Hour in the Home Life of Mrs. Neale Crittenden, aet. 34
March 20.
As she and Paul carried the table out to the windless, sunny side-porch, Marise was struck by a hospitable inspiration. "You and Elly go on setting the table," she told the children, and ran across the side-yard to the hedge. She leaned over this, calling, "Mr. Welles! Mr. Welles!" and when he came to the door, "The children and I are just celebrating this first really warm day by having lunch out of doors. Won't you and Mr. Marsh come and join us?"
By the time the explanations and protestations and renewals of the invitation were over and she brought them back to the porch, Paul and Elly had almost finished setting the table. Elly nodded a country-child's silent greeting to the newcomers. Paul said, "Oh goody! Mr. Welles, you sit by me."
Marise was pleased at the friendship growing up between the gentle old man and her little boy.
"Elly, don't you want me to sit by you?" asked Marsh with a playful accent.
Elly looked down at the plate she was setting on the table. "If you want to," she said neutrally.