"Have you picked out a husband?" asked her grandfather.
"That's the worst of it. You have to have one to earn money to buy the proper tools. But it's a great nuisance to have a husband around, Bridget says. She's had three; and she'd rather cook for Satan himself, she says, than a husband!"
"Jeannette! You mustn't repeat Bridget's conversations. Does Mrs. Huntington like you to talk to the servants?"
"No," returned Jeanne, blushing a little. "But--but sometimes I just have to talk. You see--well, you see--"
"Well, Bridget likes to be talked to. I'm not sure, always, that anybody else--well, it's easy to talk to Bridget."
The next day Jeanne returned from school with her big black eyes fairly sparkling. She went at once to her grandfather's room.
"I've decided what I'm going to do," said Jeanne. "I'm going to be married."
"Well, you see, if I had a kindergarten, I couldn't tuck the children in at night. That's the very nicest part of children--tucking them in. But the husband wouldn't need to be _much_ trouble. He could stay away all day like Uncle Charles does. What does Uncle Charles _do_? When he isn't at the Club, I mean?"
"He is in a bank from nine until three every day."
"Only that little bit? I guess I'd rather have an iceman. He gets up very early and works all day, doesn't he? Anyway, Miss Wardell said I didn't need to worry about picking _him_ out until I was twenty. Sometimes I wish Aunt Agatha liked kittens and puppies, don't you? They're so useful while you're waiting for your children."
"I have a letter from Old Captain," confided Jeanne, that same afternoon. "Don't you want to read it? You wouldn't laugh at it, _would_ you?"
"Certainly I wouldn't laugh," assured her grandfather, taking the letter.
DEAR AND HONORED MISS [wrote Old Captain, in a large, sprawling hand]:
This is to let you know that it is a warm day for April. The lake is still froze. It seems as if the sun shines more when you are here. Sammy lost his freckles for a while, but they come back again last week. Michael and Annie were here yestiddy. He says your father is teaching him to read. As I am a better hand with a boat-hook than I am with this here pen, I will close, so no more at present.
"Old Captain _is_ my true friend," explained Jeanne. "He taught me to make dresses and things. But I've learned some more things about sewing in school. I can put in a lovely patch, with the checks and stripes all matching; and darn, and hem, and fell seams, and make buttonholes. Old Captain's buttonholes were so funny. He cut them _round_ and all different sizes. I'm ever so glad Michael is learning to read. It's too far for small children to walk to school. Besides, their clothes--well, their _best_ clothes aren't just right, you know. I guess they haven't _any_ by this time."