“Thought I’d eloped? I ought to when I’ve brought you an extra mouth to feed.” He was splashing and spluttering in the lavatory off the kitchen.
“Never mind, son; we expected to take some one.”
“Yes; but some one who could take care of himself. And you didn’t expect to open dressmaking parlors.”
“No matter, Billy. I think she was sent to us; and we shall find a way. Are the chickens fed?”
“Yes, long ago. And, mamma, you needn’t ask me that every morning; I’m going to remember. Truly!” he added, as he came toward her, rosy and shining, and saw her doubtful smile. “The vegetables are most weeded, too.”
Mrs. Bennett put down the pan of batter-cake dough and gave him his good-morning kiss. His head was level with hers. “Thank you, my big boy. Mother will soon have a man to look to. Go in and get your breakfast; you must be nearly famished.”
“Yes, I could eat a graven image.”
“I hope my breakfast won’t be quite so—”
“Rocky?” he interrupted. “You bet not. It’ll be just bully, that’s what!”
“Oh, Billy!” she said, despairingly; and he knew in spite of her smile that she disliked his words. “The little girl is looking for you. She is lonely; you must amuse her.”