“Of course she will,” Mrs. Craig said. “But you know Becky. You ask her for an inch, and she gives a mile. Land, she’s busy enough, these days.”
“By the way, where are all the men in this house?” Doris asked.
“Oh, around,” Kit said, jamming her sweaters into a trunk drawer.
“Tommy and Jack are down with the chickens,” Mrs. Craig said. “Your father and Frank are downtown. Ralph is upstairs waiting for Jean to call from the hospital. They have an appointment with Dr. Fisher this afternoon.”
“Dr. who?” Kit asked. “What for?”
“The Reverend Dr. Fisher,” Doris said. “The man who’s going to marry them.”
“Oh,” said Kit. She started to hang her skirts on the trunk’s hangers. “Getting married is an awful nuisance,” she said.
“Why, Kit!” Mrs. Craig cried.
Kit smiled. “I guess I’ll have to elope. Think of all the trouble I’ll save you.”
“You can finish your packing, young lady, and stop talking nonsense if you want to save me trouble,” Mrs. Craig said.