Mrs. Pinner, who had got several ready, assumed an air of deep thoughtfulness, and softly scratched her cheek with her needle.
“Whitewash the kitchen ceiling,” she said, suddenly.
“’Ow long would that take?” demanded her lord, who was not fond of whitewashing.
“Then you could put a bit of paper in this room,” continued Mrs. Pinner, “and put them shelves in the corner what you said you’d do. That would take some time.”
“It would,” agreed Mr. Pinner, eyeing her disagreeably.
“And I was thinking,” said his wife, “if I got a sugar-box from the grocer’s and two pairs o’ wheels you could make the baby a nice little perambulator.”
“Seems to me——” began the astonished Mr. Pinner.
“While you’re doing those things I’ll try and think of some more,” interrupted his wife.
Mr. Pinner stared at her for some time in silence; finally he said “Thank’ee,” in a voice slightly tinged with emotion, and fell into a sullen reverie.
“It’s the safest plan,” urged his wife, seriously; “there’s so many things want doing that it’s the most natural thing in the world for you to stay indoors doing them. Nobody’ll think it strange.”