“Now God forbid,” said Katy. “I ain’t going to have one of them things around me. The colours I’m wearin’ satisfy me entoirely.”
“And mine are going to satisfy me very shortly, now,” laughed Linda, “because to-morrow is my big day with Eileen. Next time we have a minute together, old dear, I’ll have started my bank account.”
“Right ye are,” said Katy, “jist exactly right. You’re getting such a great girl it’s the proper thing ye should be suitably dressed, and don’t ye be too modest.”
“The unfortunate thing about that, Katy, is that I intimated the other day that I would be content with less than half, since she is older and she should have her chance first.”
“Now ain’t that jist like ye?” said Katy. “I might have known ye would be doing that very thing.”
“After I have gone over the accounts,” said Linda, “I’ll know better what to demand. Now fly to your cooking, Katy, and let me sit down at this table and see if I can dig out a few dollars of honest coin; but I’m going to have hard work to keep my eyes on the paper with that fireplace before me. Isn’t that red and blue lettering the prettiest thing, Katy, and do you notice that tiny ‘P. M.’ cut down in the lower left-hand corner nearly out of sight? That, Katy, stands for ‘Peter Morrison,’ and one of these days Peter is going to be a large figure on the landscape. The next Post he has an article in I’ll buy for you.”
“It never does,” said Katy, “to be makin’ up your mind in this world so hard and fast that ye can’t change it. In the days before John Gilman got bewitched out of his senses I did think, barrin’ your father, that he was the finest man the Lord ever made; but I ain’t thought so much of him of late as I did before.”
“Same holds good for me,” said Linda.
“I’ve studied this Peter,” continued Katy, “like your pa used to study things under his microscope. He’s the most come-at-able man. He’s got such a kind of a questionin’ look on his face, and there’s a bit of a stoop to his shoulders like they had been whittled out for carryin’ a load, and there’s a kind of a whimsy quiverin’ around his lips that makes me heart stand still every time he speaks to me, because I can’t be certain whether he is going to make me laugh or going to make me cry, and when what he’s sayin’ does come with that little slow drawl, I can’t be just sure whether he’s meanin’ it or whether he’s jist pokin’ fun at me. He said the quarest thing to me the other day when he was here fiddlin’ over the makin’ of this fireplace. He was standin’ out beside your desert garden and I come aven with him and I says to him: ‘Them’s the rare plants Miss Linda and her pa have been goin’ to the deserts and the canyons, as long as he lived, to fetch in; and then Miss Linda went alone, and now the son of Judge Whiting, the biggest lawyer in Los Angeles, has begun goin’ with her. Ain’t it the brightest, prettiest place?’ I says to him. And he stood there lookin’, and he says to me: ‘No, Katy, that is a graveyard.’ Now what in the name of raison was the man meanin’ by that?”
Linda stared at the hearth motto reflectively.