She turned, dimpling over her shoulder at Francis, who had been standing in rather a dream, where she had left him.
"Francis! Do you suppose any other men are doing that?" she asked mischievously. "Supposing our good friend Mr. Logan, for instance, has installed me in a carved renaissance chair in his apartment, and is saying nice things to me——"
"Marjorie!"
"Well, you see!" said Marjorie. "It isn't a good precedent."
"Well, I'm your husband," muttered Francis quite illogically.
"Oh, this has gone far enough," said Marjorie with determination. And she went back to the kitchen.
"I'll leave you here, if that's the case," said Francis in a friendly enough way. "I have to go over to the other cabin and see how things are and then out to where some work is going on. Can you find amusement here for awhile?"
"Oh, yes," said Marjorie. She felt a little tired, after all; and a little desirous of getting away from Francis.
"Well, if you're hungry, I think there are some things in the kitchen; and the stove is filled, and there are matches," he said in a matter-of-fact way. She wondered if he intended her to get herself a large and portentous meal. She did not feel at all hungry.
"If you'll tell me when you think you'll be back for me I'll have a little lunch ready for you before we go," she was inspired to say.