“There ain’t ’nough money in the house for that,” replied Peg—“but I’ll give her a piece of the curtains to wrap it up in.” 138
“That’ll look better’n a box,” smiled Lafe. “I’m a happy cobbler, I am.”
When Jinnie returned with a pair of low black slippers, no one noticed that they weren’t quite what should have been worn with a lace frock. Contentment reigned supreme in the Grandoken home that day.
Sunday evening at seven Jinnie displayed herself to Lafe. The cobbler gave a contented nod.
“You and the dress’re beautiful,” he ruminated. “Wonderful!... Kiss me, Jinnie!”
She not only kissed Lafe, but Bobbie, Happy Pete, and Milly Ann, too, came in for their share. Peg looked so sour, so forbidding, that Jinnie only faltered,
“Much obliged, Peggy darling.... Oh, I’m so happy!” She stood directly in front of Mrs. Grandoken. “Aren’t you, dear?” she besought.
“We’re all glad, lass,” put in the cobbler.
Jinnie’s blue, blue eyes were seeking approbation from the gaunt, frowning woman.