“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the young man, who had gone off into a reverie, “but it’s all right if you say so.”
Bonny laughed at him, then, jumping up, said, “I must be going.”
“Where’s the dog, Margaretta?” asked Roger. “I’ll walk home with the boy.”
“But your headache,” said his wife.
“Is all gone—that prescription cured it,” said the young man, with a meaning glance at the sheet of note-paper clasped in his wife’s hand.
She smiled and waved it at him. “Wives’ cold cash salve for the cure of husbands’ headaches.”
“What kind of a salve is that?” asked Bonny, curiously.
“Wait till you have a house of your own, Bonny,” said his sister, caressingly, “and I will tell you.”
Then, as the man and the boy walked slowly away, she slipped into the hammock and turned her face up to the lovely evening sky.