“Just run over any time anything bothers you, my dear,” she said to Desiré.
“’N’ not no other time?” asked René, fearful of such an agreement working to his disadvantage.
“Whenever you like—” began the housekeeper.
“Don’t tell him that,” advised Desiré, “or you may see him oftener than you wish.”
Meanwhile Jack was saying to the judge, “Of course I know that you are really the one to be thanked for all that,” waving his arm at the cozy, lighted cabin.
“Not at all,” asserted the man stoutly. “The neighbors all helped. Liked it. Lots of fun.”
“Yet they never would have known about us, or our needs, if you had not told them, and made suggestions. I just can’t express my very deep gratitude, especially on account of my little sisters. René can rough it, but I hate to have the girls deprived of ordinary comforts. Sometimes I wonder if I have done the right thing—”
“One always wonders that—no matter what one does. Go in, boy,—and send my housekeeper out. Want to get home.”
Housekeeping in the new home was a delight and a novelty, after the many weeks of camp life; and the Wistmores were very happy. Jack took Priscilla into Wolfville the second day after they arrived, and made arrangements for her to attend school, much to her chagrin, for she had hoped for a longer holiday.
“No sense in her running about for days, and missing something which will cause trouble for her later,” Jack had said, when discussing the matter with Desiré. “While it is still pleasant, she can walk back and forth morning and afternoon, and carry her lunch. In winter, we’ll try to make some different arrangements.”