"Yes, she can; and besides, she's a naughty girl. She's always a naughty girl," said Matthew. "Come ahead, Luke, I'll take care of Elviry, an' let her in, in a minute, I tell you."
But Luke preferred to see to the matter himself. So, in the midst of the bustle attendant upon getting ready to open the bundles, he slid out, with Mrs. Hansell's old black shawl, and scampered around the corner of the house.
"Where be you, Elviry?" he cried, under his breath, and wishing he could put the old shawl around himself.
"Here," said a voice, and looking off, he jumped, for there on a high snowbank, back of the old pump, was a boy in a big overcoat with a red woollen tippet tied around his head.
Luke took one good look, then sprang for the house.
"Oh, you silly thing," cried Elvira's voice, "it's me! Come here, Luke!"
It was so unmistakably Elvira's voice that Luke stared again, and, rubbing his eyes at every step, he stumbled up, putting the old shawl under his arm.
"What you got on?" he gasped, staring wildly at her.
"Hee-hee-hee!" giggled Elvira, drumming her old shoes against the rutty snowbank. "Come up here, an' I'll tell you."
As Luke wouldn't be told until he got up there, he lost no time in doing so, and was soon beside her, with the whites of his eyes showing generously in a prolonged stare at the overcoat and red woollen tippet.