So announced Sophy, returning from the barn for the third time one day towards the end of the following week.
“But we want him, Sophy. Did you tell him so?” asked Honor.
“That is just the reason he won’t come. When I said, ‘They want you,’ he said, ‘Let ’em want. I’ve got something else to do than be tied to Honor’s apron strings.’ What did he mean, Honor? You hardly ever wear an apron, and I never saw you tie Peter.”
Katherine, who was also present, laughed, as she invariably did when Sophy made a remark of this kind.
“You are the most literal young one I ever saw,” said she. “Did you really suppose, now, that—”
“Never mind!” interposed Honor, who saw that Sophy, always easily moved to tears by Katherine’s criticisms, looked ready to cry. “He means by that that he doesn’t want to do things for us. Very disobliging of him, I think. What is he doing?”
“Sitting on the fence just outside of the barn.”
“Dear me, I wish he would come! Well, Katherine, we shall have to do it ourselves. A boy can be so useful, and it does seem provoking to have one right in the family and not be able to turn him to account. I will hold the step-ladder while you go up. Isn’t it horrid to have to do all this ourselves? I do miss the servants dreadfully.”
The girls were hanging the parlor curtains for the first time in their lives.
“They are going to look horribly, too,” said Katherine. “I really think it would pay, Honor, to have a man come up from Fordham and do it. It wouldn’t cost much.”