“Bless your dear heart,” Archibald interrupted. “You aren’t going to spend your money on her. I’ll look out for her—glad to—only it seemed to me—she’s got used to being up here now and seems to like it and she could relieve you of the cooking—and I don’t know how you feel about it, but I thought I’d like to have both of you stay here with me. I had the carpenter knock up a couple of rooms at the side of the shack.”
She stopped in the path and stared at him, shining eyed, wondering.
“Oh, my stars!” she said in a hushed little voice. “My stars!”
“Don’t you like the idea?” he asked anxiously.
“Like it!” The wonder in her face broke up into little ripples of delight. “Like it! Why it’s perfectly splendid! It’s the loveliest thing I ever heard of! I could sit down and cry the way I did when the larkspur happened—but think of you wanting us—Mrs. Benderby too! And everybody thought you didn’t like folks at all!”
“I thought so myself,” admitted Archibald; “but you see I hadn’t ever really known anyone.”
“Well, I’ve got to run. I’ve simply got to. Walking’s no good when you feel the way I do, and I can’t wait to see the new rooms.”
She scampered off up the path, with Wiggles barking joyously before her, and when Archibald reached the shack at a more leisurely gait she had inspected the new rooms and was sitting in the living-room, Wiggles at her feet, Boots in her lap, and Spunky on her shoulder, while Mrs. Benderby stood with her hands on her hips looking down adoringly at the Small Person in the chair.
“I’m home! I’m home! I’m home!” Pegeen was singing to the laughing baby.
“We’re all home now,” Archibald said, as he stood in the doorway and looked at her. “You are the home, Peggy child.”