“Yes, honey,” murmured Lafe contentedly. “Now get your fiddle and practice; after that you c’n study a while out of that there grammar book.”
CHAPTER XVIII
RED ROSES AND YELLOW
The days went on peacefully after the new arrangements for the shortwood. Every other day, at twelve o’clock, one of Theodore King’s cars waited for Jinnie at the head of the path leading into the marsh.
When the weather was stormy, Bennett, the chauffeur, took the wood, telling Jinnie to run along home.
All this made it possible for Jinnie to study profitably during the warm months, and by the last of August she had mastered many difficult subjects. Lafe helped her when he could, but often shook his head despondently as she sat down beside him on the bench, asking his advice.
“The fact is, honey, I ain’t got much brains,” he said to her one afternoon. “If I hung by my neck till I could see through them figures, I’d be as dead as Moses.”
One Thursday morning, as she climbed into the big car with her load, Bennett said,