“I am sure the Master will let you have whatever you want, dear Aunt Mary,” Molly would say.
“But if’n he does that, I’ll get too rotten spiled ter stay in Heaven. He better limit me some, or I’ll feel too proudified even fer a angel.”
CHAPTER XV.
WELLINGTON AGAIN.
“Oh, it is nice to be back home,” sighed Molly, settling herself luxuriously in the sleepy-hollow chair that was supposed to be set aside for the master of the house. With the girlish habit she had never outgrown, she slipped off her pumps and stretched out her slender feet to the wood fire, that felt very comfortable in the crisp autumn weather.
“That’s what you said when we arrived in Kentucky in the spring,” teased her husband.
“Well, so it was nice. The migratory birds have two homes and they are always glad to get to whichever one is seasonable. I reckon I am with my two homes as Mother is with her seven children. I love them just the same. Thank goodness, I haven’t seven of them, homes, I mean.”
“Yes, I think two are enough.”
“Which home do you love best, Wellington or the Orchard Home?” asked Molly, smiling fondly at her husband, who was dandling little Mildred on his knees with awkward eagerness.