“They’re all Brookville men,” said Lydia. “I have to have money to pay them with. Besides, I have Martha.”
“You mean your hired girl, I suppose,” inferred Miss Daggett, rubbing her nose thoughtfully.
“She isn’t exactly—a servant,” hesitated Lydia. “We give the men their noon meal,” she added. “Martha helps me with that.”
“You give them their dinner! Well, I never! Did you hear that, Abby? She gives them their dinner. Didn’t you know men-folks generally bring their noonings in a pail? Land! I don’t know how you get hearty victuals enough for all those men. Where do they eat?”
“In the new barn,” said Lydia, smiling. “We have a cook stove out there.”
“Ain’t that just lovely!” beamed Mrs. Daggett, squeezing the girl’s slim hand in both her own. “Most folks wouldn’t go to the trouble of doing anything so nice. No wonder they’re hustling.”
“Mebbe they won’t hustle so fast toward the end of the job,” said Lois Daggett. “You’ll find men-folks are always ready to take advantage of any kind of foolishness. Come, Abby; we must be going. You’ll get those books in about two weeks, Miss Orr. A big order takes more time, I always tell people.”
“Thank you, Miss Daggett. But wouldn’t you—if you are in a hurry, you know; Mr. Dodge is going to the village in the automobile; we’re expecting some supplies for the house. He’ll be glad to take you.”
“Who, Jim Dodge? You don’t mean to tell me Jim Dodge can drive an auto! I never stepped foot inside of one of those contraptions. But I don’t know but I might’s well die for a sheep as a lamb.”
Lois Daggett followed the girl from the room in a flutter of joyous excitement.