“Hark! There’s Bonny calling. Mother and the ‘Hopeful’ have probably come down to the ‘peace-room.’ And, do you know I think that’s a mighty pretty fancy of hers? Let’s try to please her and remember it.”
“All right. I’ll try; but I’m not a bit perfect!”
Roland forbore the retort that rose to his lip. Just at present he was still in the first glow of his incipient manhood, when the idea of being the “head of the family” had a charm of pride and importance about it that made trifles of heavy burdens. Isabelle wondered how long his ease-loving temperament would endure the strain of actual labor and hardship which would inevitably be laid upon it; but still, like Beatrice, she saw a change in Roland, and she could but believe that he had “come unto his own” in coming to dwell in the wide, beautiful country.
“Well, you dreamers! Here have Motherkin and the bad ones been sitting for full five minutes, waiting for you to come in. We are to hold a conclave of forces and decide upon the tactics of this camp! Hi! there! brother Bob! Does that sound warlike enough for you? I motion Mother takes the Chair! All in favor— Aye!”
“My daughter, I decline all posts purely honorary! You may be Chairman of the occasion; for whether we will or no, you will be bound to have the most to say!”
“Now, Motherkin! But Roland knows, as well as I, what we have thought. Let him tell our plans, and if they agree with yours, all right; if not, we’ll hear whatever amendments the house has to offer.”
“What you talkin’ ’bout?” asked Robert, sleepily.
“Exactly. Roland, begin, please.”
“Where?”
“On the money question, of course.”