“Oh, yes,” Peggy said, laughing with delight; “I want everything done for the people who are renting my house.”
“All right, Peggy, I’ll look out for the comfort of your tenants.”
“My tenants are not going to keep any maid, Mr. Farrell; I’ve got to give them most of their meals, although they will get some out, and I thought you’d advise me what food is cheapest and best.”
They talked about the best food for Mr. and Mrs. Cox all the way to Peggy’s house, where Mr. Farrell stopped to inspect the hen-house on his way to Miss Porter’s.
“I always meant to keep hens sometime,” Mrs. Owen confided to Mr. Farrell, “but I did not mean to begin this winter.”
“If you have them at all, you might as well have a few more,” he said; “it is a little like summer boarders—the more you have, the more profit you get.”
“I know,” said Mrs. Owen, “but unfortunately, you have to begin by buying the hens.”