“Yes,” said Honey, puffing violently, “a nail. And we’re going to have a tennis court at one side not a little squeezed-up affair like this—but a big, fine one. We’re going to lay out a golf course, too. That will be some job, Mrs. Holworthy D. Smith, and don’t you forget it.”
“Yes, I should think it would be,” agreed Lulu. “Do you know, Honey, Clara’s an awful cat! She’s dreadfully jealous of Peachy. The things she says to her! She knows Pete’s still half in love with her. Peachy understands him on his art side as Clara can’t. Clara simply hands it to Pete if he looks at Peachy. Even when she knows that he knows, that we all know, that she tried her best to start a flirtation with you.”
“And to-day,” Honey interrupted eagerly, “we doped out a scheme for a series of canals to run right round the whole place—with gardens on the bank. You see we can pipe the lake water and——.”
“That will be great,” said Lulu, but there was no enthusiasm in her tone. “And really, Honey, Peachy’s in a dreadful state of nerves. Of course, she knows that Ralph is still crazy about Julia and always will be, just because Julia’s like a stone to him—oh, you know the kind of a man Ralph is. The only woman you can depend on him to be faithful to is the one that won’t have him round. I don’t think that bothers Peachy, though. She adores Julia. If she could fly a little while in the afternoon—an hour, say—I know it would cure her.”
“Too bad. But, of course, we couldn’t let you girls fly again. Besides, I doubt very much if, after so many cuttings, your wings would ever grow big enough. You don’t realize it yourself, perhaps, but you’re much more healthy and normal without wings.”
“I don’t mind being without them so much myself”—Lulu’s tone was a little doubtful—“though I think they would help me with Honey-Boy and Honey-Bunch. Sometimes—.” She did not finish.
“And then,” Honey went on decidedly, “it’s not natural for women to fly. God never intended them to.”
“It is wonderful,” Lulu said admiringly, “how men know exactly what God intended.”
Honey roared. “If you’d ever heard the term sarcasm, my dear, I should think you were slipping something over on me. In point of fact, we don’t know what God intended. Nobody does. But we know better than you; the man’s life broadens us.”
“Then I should think—” Lulu began. But again she did not finish.