“Yes,” replied Barbara.
“And Sunday afternoons to supper?”
Barbara hesitated. “Yes,” she agreed, finally.
“Well, I dunno,” said the girl. The tired-faced woman put in a word:—
“You might go and help her out a bit, Libbie. Then you could buy those white shoes you’ve been wanting.”
“Well, maybe,” assented the girl. “When do you want me?”
“Right now,” said Barbara.
Ten minutes later, Mr. Hopkins accompanied the three girls to the gate, lending his presence while Barbara untied the horse and cramped the buggy. “Good-by, Libbie,” he said; “write us frequent, and don’t work too hard. Give my regards to yer pa, Miss Barb’ry. I ain’t never forgot the time he pulled me out of noomonia. There ain’t nothing too big fer me to do fer him; tell him to come out some time, and pick gooseberries.”