"Kissing again," shouted Polly from the doorway. "Say, will you two never settle down to business? There's Bud Lane and a bunch of others just into the corral—maybe they want you, Jack."
Jack excused himself. As he stepped out on the piazza he asked Polly: "Shall I send Bud in?"
"Let him come in if he wants to. I'm not sending for him." Polly spitefully turned up her nose at him. Jack laughed as he closed the door.
Echo reseated herself at the piano, fingering the keys.
"How are you getting on with Bud?" she asked the younger girl.
"We don't get on a little bit," she snapped. "Bud never seems to collect much revenue an' we just keep trottin' slow like—wish I was married and had a home of my own."
"Aren't you happy with father and mother?"
Polly glanced at Echo with a smile. "Lord, yes," she replied, "in a way, but I'm only a poor relation—your ma was my ma's cousin or something like that."
Echo laughed. "Nonsense," she retorted. "Nonsense—you're my dear sister, and the only daughter that's at the old home now."
"But I want a home of my own, like this," said Polly.