“You mean that new teachers don’t like you,” Ken put in with brotherly frankness. “They would, though, if you’d ever study, which I reckon you never will.”
“You’d ought to learn all you can, Caroly. We all ought to,” the little mother modified, “’cause as soon as we’re old enough, we’ll want to be earning our own living so we won’t always be poor and scrimping like we are now.”
Carolina tossed her curls.
“’Twon’t be needful for me to earn my livin’,” she said proudly. “Mrs. Piggins says I’m the kind that always marries young, and I’m goin’ to marry rich, too.”
Ken exploded with amused laughter.
“Hear the baby prattle!” he teased. “You’d better be thinkin’ about your dolls, seems like to me.”
The all-too-easily-aroused temper of the younger girl flared.
“Ken Martin, you know I haven’t played with dolls, not since I was seven years old, and now I’m eight.”
The violet eyes flashed and the pretty lips quivered.
The heart of Ken always melted when he saw tears.