He called her name and presently a very sleepy voice responded, so tender and helpless in its accents that he laughed for joy.
“Lazy girl!” he cried. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve been up for hours.”
“All right; I’ll get up, I suppose. Is breakfast ready?”
“Not quite,” he replied seriously, “but I’ll have the maid bring it in as soon as the eggs are shirred.” 291
“Bud Larkin, you’re horrid!” she cried. “I don’t believe you have even started a fire. Do you expect me to get your breakfast?”
“It would tickle me silly,” he confessed, unrepentant. “Shall I wait for you? You see the cooks are getting dinner now. Breakfast was over hours ago.”
“Oh, dear, I suppose so! We’re not even married and you want me to cook for you. Oh, dear!”
“Well,” he said, relenting, “I’ll get things started, but you come out as soon as you can.”
So saying he beckoned to Ah Sin who had been waiting for the boss, and gave him a number of orders. Then he thrashed about the river bank as though looking for fagots, while Julie continued pretending to mourn over her hard lot. When at last she appeared, however, and had dashed the sleep from her eyes in the icy waters of the river, it was not to cook, but to sit down at one of Ah Sin’s little tables and eat a glorious breakfast.
“You perfect darling!” she cried happily and ran and kissed Bud though the Chinaman was looking on.