“No,” laughed Pet, “I am in in this storm. I came to stay all night.”
“I shouldn’t think you would want to go out again to-night.”
“Oh, it isn’t so bad. The snow is light. Joe brought me,” she said, with sudden meaning in her tones.
“Did he?” asked Nettie, absently; “just let me read you this. ‘This lady walked forty steps to go out to tea—for the first time in thirty-two years.’ I wonder if I shall ever go out to tea.”
“Nettie, you shall come to my wedding.”
“Pet!” exclaimed Nettie, in delight and surprise.
“Yes. And I came to tell you. I told Joe tonight I would marry him,” she said, laughing and coloring.
“I’m so glad. I’m so glad,” repeated Nettie; “he is so good and kind.”
“He is as good as David Prince any day. Jean needn’t put on airs because he was only a farm boy. He is more than that now. Mr. Brush has promised to build a little house just opposite his house, across the road, and Joe is not to be paid wages, but to take the farm on shares. Plenty of people do that. Mr. Brush says he is his right-hand. Father will furnish our house—it will not take much. Perhaps some day Joe will have a farm of his own. My father had to earn his farm, and that’s why the mortgage isn’t off yet. Joe has saved some money, and so have I. Agnes Trembly will try to give me her customers when she is married; she always speaks a good word for me. I’ve made dresses for Mrs. Brush and Judith and Miss Marion.”
“And wrappers for me,” said Nettie.