“Say, will you? That’d be fine. Pa and I’d be tickled most to death—when the flowers along the front walk get going real good, you know—and maybe Pa and me on the front porch!”
“Anything you say.”
“Well, you’re real kind. I guess Peg’s had you sized up right along, but it don’t take much to be nice to Peg. When it comes to being nice to a fat old party like me, you’re proving something. Say, were you figuring to go off painting somewheres this mornin’?”
Archibald blinked, looked at her thoughtfully, and grinned.
“I can,” he said amiably.
“Oh, don’t you do it, unless you were going anyway, but you most always do and so they thought it’d be all right and wouldn’t bother you and—”
“Where are they?” Archibald asked comprehendingly.
“Well, they’re sort of waiting around down at my house. I was to wave a towel or something if you were gone. We didn’t any of us realize about you not getting up early, and everybody was crazy to see Peg’s dresses and things. Ginsy Shalloway’s curiosity was boiling so hard when I left that it most moved her false front up and down like a kettle cover. She took a mornin’ off from Mrs. Frisbie so as to come down here, but it don’t make much difference, for Mrs. Frisbie was coming anyway.”
“Save the false front, Mrs. Neal,” Archibald urged. “I’ll take myself out of the way and Peggy will lend you a towel to wave.”
Mrs. Neal smiled at him in friendly fashion.