“We’re going to invite you to our Christmas dinner,” he remarked, his mouth full.
“How topping! Who else?”
“The old Baker woman, and Vi. Balaam Atkins,—he’s mashed on Letty, you know. Granpa and Aunt Lou—Granpa’s good for a present, anyway. Oh, and your precious Tommy Cox!”
“Hurrah! He’s spiffing fun. Ever heard him imitate turkeys gobbling?”
“No, and I don’t want to. And I don’t suppose he’d find it difficult. He’s to be lugged in for Vi Baker; she’s supposed to have a broken heart, or some such tommy-rot——”
“And your mother thinks that Tommy’s rot will cheer her up?” Jinny exploded into giggles at her own wit; “I say, Luke, did you hear? I said——”
“Oh, keep your hair on! I don’t want to hear it again.”
“Sour grapes! you wouldn’t have thought of it yourself. But won’t Letty’s fellow be there?”
“Sebastian? Oh, rather; didn’t I count him? I say,” Luke leant forward confidentially across the rickety green tin table, “you know how snarky Pater was about him? Well, two mornings ago he had a letter from old Levi—I heard him tell Mater about it—and ever since, he’s simply oiled himself all over Sebastian. And I believe he’s come to see him this afternoon.”
“Who’s come to see who, stupid?”