“Jimmy,” called Pegeen eagerly, “Jimmy Dawes.”
The boy looked up from his whittling, showing two merry brown eyes and a most engaging grin.
“’Lo,” he conceded, trying to look as if he had not been watching for Pegeen’s triumphal progress.
She leaned out from the buggy, glowing, eager, sure of sympathy, in spite of the apparent lack of enthusiasm.
“I’m going to Pittsfield, Jimmy. I’m going to have a new hat—with pink roses!”
Jimmy Dawes’ eyes sought Archibald’s.
“Ain’t girls the limit?” he said genially, as man to brother man.
But Pegeen refused to be suppressed.
“’N’ a new dress ’n’ shoes!” she confided happily.
Jimmy, having asserted the superiority of his sex, like many a male creature before him, felt that he could afford to humor the inferior feminine.