“No,” admitted Bundock, “but I guess she’s old enough to be, though I haven’t seen her census paper—he, he! And besides she’s a dressmaker!”
“What’s that to do with it?” asked Caleb.
“I see your missus understands,” said Bundock mysteriously.
“But she won’t walk five miles to read my letter,” urged the blushing Martha.
Caleb had one of the great inspirations of his life.
“And ain’t it time you got a new gownd?”
Martha flushed up. “Oh, Caleb! Don’t let us run to vanity!”
“Wanity, mother! It ain’t tinkling ornaments nor cauls nor nose-jewels,” protested Caleb, with a vague reminiscence of her Biblical readings. “And ye’ve had naught since the sucking-pig Oi bought ye for your sixtieth birthday.”
But Martha shook her head, quoting firmly:
“Let me be dressed fine as I will,