“Oh, do come, Miss Merriweather! It’ll be so nice.”
And Molly hated the girl more cordially than ever.
On arriving home Jinnie beamed out her happiness to the cobbler and his wife.
“And the fiddle, Peggy, they loved the fiddle,” she told the woman.
“Did you make it, Jinnie?” asked Peggy gruffly.
“What, the fiddle?” demanded Jinnie.
Peggy nodded.
“No,” faltered Jinnie in surprise.
“Then don’t brag about it,” warned Peggy. “If you’d a glued them boards together, it’d a been something, but as long as you didn’t, it ain’t no credit to you.”
Lafe laughed, and Jinnie, too, uttered a low, rueful sound. How funny Peg was! And when Mrs. Grandoken had gone to prepare for the night, Lafe insisted that Jinnie tell him over and over all the happenings of the evening. For a long time afterwards she sat dreaming, reminiscing in sweet fancy every word and smile Theodore had given her.