Thus they had their noon meal, bullheads off the spit, crisp and hot, with just a sprinkle of salt on them, sandwiches and fruit from the basket, and cool, sweet water from a nearby spring.
Henry Thorne, his appetite appeased, his mind and body relaxed, stretched out on the grass and looked meditatively into the creek.
“What a life this would be—no strain, no thoughts of tomorrow, no temperamental stars to worry about, no stories to doctor, no budget to watch.”
“But after what you’ve had this would tire in a few weeks. Why, you’re thinking about getting back into the harness right now,” said Janet’s father.
Henry Thorne flushed guiltily.
“Caught that time,” he admitted. “Sure I was thinking about getting back on the job. I’m too much of a work horse, I guess.”
“But you’ll stay until after graduation, won’t you?” asked Helen anxiously.
“That’s one thing you needn’t worry about,” promised her father. “I’m thinking now of what’s going to be best for you after high school days are over; whether you and mother will prefer to stay here in Clarion or would like to come west with me. You’re pretty much of a young woman now, Helen, and from the play last night, quite a capable little actress.”
“Not much of an actress, I’m afraid, Dad, but I did want to be in the class play because you were coming home and I wanted you to be proud of me.”
“I was very proud of you, dear. Just how proud you’ll never know, and I’ve been trying to think of something I could do that would show you just how pleased I was over the work you and Janet did in the class play.”