“Well, mother can make cakes,” said Esau, “and good ones.”
“Of course I can, sir; and very glad you’ll be of ’em too when you’re thousands of miles from a baker’s shop.”
“Yes; but the idee of your coming!” cried Esau. “Haw, haw, haw!”
Somehow it did not seem to me such a very preposterous “idee,” as Esau called it, for just then I too had an idea. Mrs John was going that long waggon journey; what could be better for her than to have a clever little managing, hard-working woman like Mrs Dean with her?
But I did not say anything about it then, for I had to think the matter over. Only a few hours ago it had seemed as if my connection with Esau was likely to be in the way of my accompanying the Dempsters; now matters were taking a form that looked as if my friendliness with him was to be the reason, not only for my being their companion, but of helping them admirably as well.
But matters were not quite in shape yet, and we all went to bed that night feeling as if Esau’s opinion was correct—that the little supper had not been a success.