GRANNY SURPRISES BILLY.
"I'M come to tea, mother," announced Mrs. Dingle, one hot August afternoon, as she entered the kitchen at Rowley Cottage, where Mrs. Brown stood ironing at a table near the open window. "I shan't be in your way, shall I? Here, you rest a bit, and let me take on your irons."
"No, thank you," Mrs. Brown answered. "You were never a good hand at ironing starchery, Elizabeth, and I can't bear to see it done badly. I'm doing Billy's collars—such a lot there are! This hot weather a collar rarely lasts him more than a day."
"I suppose he makes a lot of extra work for you," remarked Mrs. Dingle, seating herself and taking off her hat.
"You suppose?" said her mother tartly. "As if you didn't know, when you've a boy of your own! By the way, I believe May and Harold are about here somewhere."
"They're in the garden—I've been there. They're helping net the plum-trees. Billy's a born gardener, his grandfather says."
Mrs. Brown nodded.
"To give him his due, he's been a great help during the fruit-picking," she allowed. "All his spare time out of school hours during the summer he's spent in the garden, and now it's holidays he's there from morning till night. Did he show you his marrow—the one he is going to cut for the show?"
"Yes. It's a beauty. Harold has one quite as large, though."
There was a brief silence, then Mrs. Dingle said—