They overtook Melinda, and while Thomas talked with Jerry, the women fell back and Susan spoke of private affairs. She explained her gathering difficulties and Melinda listened with a good deal of sympathy.
"'Tis very undignified of your father, Susan—more like a naughty, disappointed child, than a man with fame for sense. I allow for him, because a good few things have happened to shake him; yet, so far as you and Mr. Palk are concerned, it did ought to be all joy and gladness."
"So it ought; but far from it," answered the other. "Father's got to such a pass now that when I tell him I'm wishful to name the day, he dares me to do so."
"Very wilful and unkind, and something ought to be done about it," declared Mrs. Honeysett. "I've been thinking a good deal on Joe lately, as I dare say you can guess; and no doubt you know very well why he came to see me a fortnight agone, Soosie. But I don't forget the past and I don't want to lose his friendship, nor yet yours. And I've thought a lot about you and him."
They lagged and mumbled together for some time; but it was clear that Melinda's views commended themselves much to Susan, and when they joined Jerry and Thomas at the turn to Mrs. Honeysett's house, Joe Stockman's daughter thanked her friend gratefully for some inspiring suggestions.
She talked without ceasing to Tom all the way home, and he listened and nodded and declared there might be a good deal in it.
"'Tis a great thought," he said, "and if you feel kind to it, then I might. Us'll see—'tis a rod to hold over the man, because it be full time for your father to find out where he stands."
"'Tis a sort of bargain of course," admitted Susan; "but you wouldn't call it a one-sided bargain."
"Not at all. It lets him out so as he can save his face before the folk. And it shows him what good-tempered creatures you and me are."
Thomas thought it might be possible to speak at the end of that day.