“And later in the season, pretty berries,” said Priscilla.
“And wintergreen—”
“And nuts—”
“And soon you won’t need my poor efforts at all,” concluded Jack, with a half smile.
“Oh, don’t, please, Jack, even in fun,” begged Desiré.
“We’d need you even if you never earned a cent!” cried Priscilla, throwing her arms around Jack’s neck.
René, attempting to imitate her, due to the wagon’s passing over a rut, succeeded only in falling violently on his brother’s shoulder. The combined assault nearly forced Jack forward out of the seat.
“I’ll take your word for it, hereafter,” he gasped, when order was once more restored. “Don’t illustrate again, I beg of you!”
A week later the Wistmore family drove into Halifax.
“I shall have to spend most of the day buying supplies,” said Jack, as they passed the citadel. “I’ll put the wagon up somewhere, and you and the children can look about while I’m busy.”