Really, it is awfully funny, Katy."
Katy was sober. She showed no appreciation of the fun.
"Ye know, lambie," she said, her hands on her hips, her elbows
wide-spread, her jaws argumentative, "I've done some blarneying
with that lad, an' I've fed him some, because he was doin' things
that would help an' please ye, but now I'm tellin' ye, just like
I'll be tellin' ye till I die, I ain't STRONG for him. If ever
the day comes when ye ask me to take on that Whiting kid for me
boss, I'll bow my head an' I'll fly at his bidding, because he is
real, he's goin' to come out a man lots like your pa, or hisn.
An' if ever the day comes when ye will be telling me ye want me
to serve Pater Morrison, I'll well nigh get on my knees to him.
I think he'd be the closest we'd ever come to gettin' the master
back. But I couldn't say I'd ever take to Anderson. They's
something about him, I can't just say what, but he puts me back
up amazin'."
"Don't worry, ancient custodian of the family," said Linda.
"That same something in Henry Anderson that antagonizes you,
affects me in even stronger degree. You must not get the foolish
notion that any man has a speculative eye on me, because it is
not true. Donald Whiting is only a boy friend, treating me as a
brother would, and Peter Morrison is much too sophisticated and
mature to pay any serious attention to a girl with a year more
high school before her. I want to be decent to Henry Anderson,
because he is Peter's architect, and I'm deeply interested in
Peter's house and the lady who will live in it.
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