“Sure,” responded Peggy, nodding vigorously. “Sure! Jinnie’s been workin’ awful hard for years, an’ Lafe’d like you to take ’er. But you musn’t tell ’er I come here.”
Saying this, Peggy rose to her feet. She had finished what she had come to say and was ready to go. Theodore King laughingly thanked her and shook her heartily 212 by the hand. Then he escorted her to the door, and she returned to Lafe a little less grim.
It was nearly noon when Jinnie left the master’s music room, carrying her fiddle box. Her teacher noticed she played with less spirit than usual, but had refrained from mentioning it.
She was coming down the steps when King’s car dashed up to the door. Her meetings with him were always unexpected and found her quite unprepared for the shock to her emotions.
“I’ve come to take you home, Jinnie,” said Theodore, jumping out.
Jinnie’s throat filled, and silently she allowed him to help her to the seat. They were in the flat of the town before he turned to her.
“I haven’t given up my plan to take you away for a day,” he said gently.
Jinnie gulped with joy. He was going to ask her again! Lafe and Peg had said she could go. She waited for him to proceed, which he did more gravely.
“When I make up my mind to do a thing, I generally do it. Now which day shall it be, Jinnie?”
“I guess I’ll have to let you tell,” whispered Jinnie, which whisper Theo caught despite the noise of the chugging motor.