“You don't mean they're comin' in here to dinner?”
“I couldn't very well help asking them, you know.” His tone was soft and conciliatory, and he kept a nervous eye upon his sister's face.
“Couldn't help askin' 'em! I ruther guess I could 'a' helped askin' 'em!”
“Jane, I hadn't any idea they'd stay.”
“Well, you've gone an' done it, that's all I've got to say. Here they didn't come last night, when I got all ready for 'em, an' now they're comin', an' everything we've got is a picked-up dinner; there ain't enough of anything to go round. Flora!”
Her daughter Flora came in from the kitchen, with the children, in blue gingham aprons, at her heels.
“What is it, mother?” said she.
“Nothin', only your uncle Daniel has asked that Maxwell woman an' her niece to dinner, an' they're goin' to stay.”
“My goodness! there isn't a thing for dinner!” said Flora, with a half-giggle. She was so young and healthy and happy that she could still see the joke in an annoyance.
Her uncle looked at her beseechingly. “Can't you manage somehow?” said he. “I'll go down to the store and buy something.”