Papa gazed at me as if he did not understand, and no doubt just at first he did not.
'Live here,' he repeated, 'but that is just——'
'Yes,' I interrupted,—'here, in the hut. I don't mean of course go on living at home, at Eastercove, though it would be Eastercove too. That's the beauty of it; you would be able to feel that we were at home, and close to all our friends.'
But still papa repeated, in a dazed sort of way, I would say 'stupid,' only it would seem rude—
'Live here.'
(I do think men are far slower at taking up new ideas than women.)
'Live here,' he said again, till I really wished it would not be disrespectful to give him a little shake, and even Dods, who is far patienter and less im——what should I say?—impetuous or impulseful, I must ask mamma which is best, began to look rather provoked. But mamma put it all right.
'Yes, Jack,' she said, the colour rushing into her face and her eyes sparkling,—'yes, here in the hut, is what the child means, and, really, I think it is an inspiration.' Mamma is quick, and she has such a beautifully ready imagination. 'I don't see why we shouldn't. It is perfectly healthy; dry and airy and quite warm except perhaps in the middle of winter, and we surely could find ways and means of making a dry house warm. Ida, darling, I believe you have hit upon a way out of our greatest difficulty. Do say you think so too, Jack!'
Light was gradually penetrating into papa's mind.
'Here in the hut! Yes, I wish it were possible,' he said, 'and I agree with you both so far. It is dry and healthy, and might be made warm, but—it is so small! Ah!' and he started to his feet, his whole face changing, 'talking of inspirations, I'm not sure but that I have got one too—the———'