“Well, rather!” said his daughters cheerfully. “We’re going to have no end of a day. Mother’s not going to dream, when she comes in, that there isn’t a staff of liveried servants!”
“So I should think,” said Father dryly. “What time did you two get up?”
“Oh—five-ish,” said Jean, with studied carelessness.
“Rather more ‘ish’ than five, I fancy. Truth now, twinses.”
“Well, it’s going to be hot, so we thought we might as well start early. And it truly was after half-past four.”
“H’m!—not much after,” said Mr. Weston, laughing. “However, I don’t mind, if you’ll take a rest after lunch. See here, girls; I’ve got business in Barrabri, and I want to be at the sales, besides meeting Mother’s train: I intended driving in after breakfast. Suppose I take the boys with me? a holiday won’t do them any harm, and you’ll have no dinner to get—except for yourselves. That, I know, means that you’ll dine on scraps off a corner of the kitchen table, but I believe women like that sort of thing!”
“Father, you are just the most scrumptious person!” ejaculated Jean.
“We won’t say we’d love to get rid of you all, but yes—well, it would be rather gorgeous to have the day to ourselves,” Jo agreed. “We want to make cakes, and have everything as nice as nice. Bless you! Did you say you would like to hurry away after breakfast?”
“I didn’t say so, but of course I will,” said Mr. Weston, laughing. “Never say I’m not a well-trained parent!”
“I’ll never say you’re not an understanding one,” Jean said. “Breakfast will be ready whenever you and the boys are. Won’t the urchins be delighted at a day in Barrabri!”