“It seems to me,” she said, “that I should try to settle it like this.”
She explained her plan. Crawford listened, at first dubiously and then with steadily growing enthusiasm.
“By George!” he exclaimed, when she had finished. “That would do it, I honestly believe. How in the world did you ever think of that scheme? Say, you really are a wonder at managing. You could manage a big business and make it go, I'm sure. How do you do it? Where do you get your ideas?”
Mary laughed. His praise pleased her.
“I don't know,” she answered. “I just think them out, I guess. I do like to manage things for people. Sometimes I do it more than I should, perhaps. Poor Isaiah Chase, at home in South Harniss, says I boss him to death. And my uncles say I manage them, too—but they seem to like it,” she added.
“I don't wonder they do. I like it, myself. Will you help manage my affairs between now and Commencement? There'll be a whole lot to manage, between the club and the dance and all the rest of it. And then when you go to Commencement you can see for yourself how they work out.”
“Go to Commencement? Am I going to Commencement?”
“Of course you are! You're going with me, I hope. I thought that was understood. It's a long way off yet, but for goodness' sake don't say you won't come. I've been counting on it.”
Mary's pleasure showed in her face. All she said, however, was:
“Thank you very much. I shall be very glad to come.”