He started guiltily, and flushed.
"Come and sit down," she commanded. "If you do not speak up instantly and tell me what is on your mind I shall jump up and down and scream. You make me so nervous when you squirm around that way. What ever in the world is the matter with you?"
Her father quickly dumped the mending basket and its contents upon the floor, with masculine and ministerial lack of regard for things domestic, and appropriated the chair, drawing it close to his daughter's side.
"Hurry, hurry," came the gentle authoritative voice. "I have oceans to do. What is it?"
"Well, it is— Why, nothing special, child, what made you think—"
"You haven't gone and proposed to Miss Carlton, have you?" she gasped.
"No, thank Heaven," came the fervent answer.
"Careful, father. You mean it devoutly, I am sure, but Providence might mistake it for irreverence. Providence does not know Miss Carlton as we do, you know. Don't be afraid to tell me then—nothing else could be so terribly bad."
"Well, dearest, I was just wondering if—don't you think, perhaps—if I help a lot, and see that the girls do their share—don't you think we could get along without Miss Carlton this year?"