“By the way, papa says Jim isn’t very well this summer. Says he still grieves over the farm he lost. Leigh hasn’t much ahead of her, nailed down to a chicken lot and a cow pasture and a garden. I wonder they don’t move to town. She’d get a clerkship, maybe.”
Thaine only waited, and Jo ran on.
“I’d never stay in the country a minute if I could get to town. I’ll be glad when papa’s elected treasurer, so we 255 can live in Careyville again. Poor Leigh. Doesn’t she look like a drudge?”
Still Thaine was silent.
“Why don’t you say something?” Jo demanded, looking coquettishly at him.
“About what?” he asked gravely.
“About Leigh. I don’t want to do all the gossiping. Tell me what you think of her.”
“It would take a Cyclopedia Britannica set of volumes to do that,” Thaine replied.
“Oh, be serious and answer my questions,” Jo demanded.
“‘Doesn’t she look like a drudge?’ What kind of an answer—information or just my opinion?”