“If it ain’t Priscilla Marborough!” he exclaimed. “You’ve come back!”
“I certainly have returned,” the old lady retorted with no friendliness in her voice. “High time someone looked after this place! While I’ve been away, you seemingly have used my garden as a chicken run!”
“How did I know you was ever coming back?” Crocker demanded. “Anyhow, the place has gone to wrack and ruin. A few chickens more nor less shouldn’t make no difference.”
“Perhaps not to you, Truman Crocker,” Mrs. Marborough returned with biting emphasis. “You know I am home now, so I warn you—keep your live stock out of my garden!”
Penny and her friends shared the old stonecutter’s chagrin, for they too were trespassers. Waiting until the woman had finished lecturing Crocker, they offered an apology for the intrusion.
“We’re very sorry,” Penny said, speaking for the others. “Of course we never dreamed that the house was occupied or we wouldn’t have peeped through the window. We came because we wanted to sketch the old wishing well and your lovely home.”
Mrs. Marborough came down the steps toward the girls.
“I quite understand,” she said in a far milder tone than she had used in speaking to the stonecutter. “You may look around as much as you wish. But first, tell me your names.”
One by one they gave them, answering other questions which the old lady asked. She kept them so busy that they had no opportunity to interpose any of their own. But at length Penny managed to inquire:
“Mrs. Marborough, are you planning to open up your home again? Everyone would be so happy if only you should decide to live here!”