"Blest if I can—on the spur of the moment!" said Gideon.
Harvey D. looked almost sharply at the exigent Merle.
"Pat's twenty-five and knows her own mind better than we do," he said.
"I never knew it at all!" said Gideon.
"It's almost a distinct relief," resumed Harvey D. "As I think of it I like it." He went to straighten the painting of an opened watermelon beside a copper kettle, that hung above the sideboard. "He's a fine young chap." He looked again at Merle, fixing knife and fork in a juster alignment on his plate. "I dare say we needed him in the family."
Late the following afternoon Sharon triumphantly brought his car to a stop before the gateway leading up to the red farmhouse. The front door proving unresponsive, he puffed about to the rear. He found a perturbed Patricia Cowan, in cap and apron, tidying the big kitchen. Her he greeted rapturously.
"This kitchen—" began the new mistress.
"So he put a comether on you!"
"Absolutely—when I wasn't looking!"