"Should say so," was the emphatic agreement. "I found that out the very first thing after Tildy an’ me was married."
"I guess if the women didn’t do things round this house there wouldn’t be much done," Mrs. Andrews retorted.
"Judging from this supper, they certainly know their work," Rivers complimented. "I never tasted such doughnuts in my life. I hope Belle has taken many lessons from you, Mrs. Andrews."
"I’m afraid not, daddy," was the laughing confession. "I’ve been too giddy to settle down to housework."
"Runnin’ away from sich fellers as Billy Lansing, eh?" Abner bantered. "Poor chap, I wonder if he’s livin’ yit, fer we haven’t seen hair nor hide of him since that island affair."
"Belle hasn’t been idle, let me tell you that," Jess defended. "I never knew her to write so many letters as she has lately."
"And not all to me, eh?" and Rivers looked quizzically at his daughter. "Oh, you needn’t blush so furiously," he added. "Mr. Parker is a married man and an old friend of ours, so it’s all right."
"What! Was ye writin’ letters to that minister at St. Felix?" Abner asked in surprise. "Ye didn’t tell us ye knew him."
"Yes, ever since I was a child," Belle explained. "He was a regular visitor at our house then, and why shouldn’t I write to him?"
"Sure, sure," Abner agreed. "It was all right, Belle, so long as ye’r letters was somewhat along the lines ye wrote to ye’r dad."
"What makes you think they were, Mr. Andrews?"
"The spirits of me ancestors tell me that you had a hand in that sermon Mr. Parker gave us last Sunday night. Ain’t I right?"
"You are," Rivers replied, as Belle hesitated. "And I am very glad that Belle gave the information which brought forth that sermon. It roused the best thinking people in Glucom to action, and that was partly the reason why I remained in town last night."
"They got down to business, and decided to purchase a large, commodious house as a temporary orphanage. The necessary money was raised in a short time, and I am confident that the Government will make a liberal grant toward the running expenses."
"Ye don’t tell!" Abner was now leaning over the table, unheeding his wife’s chiding looks. "An’ they won’t need Hen Whittles’ dump?"
"No, not at all," Rivers laughed. "He can keep his dump as long as he likes for himself, Rackshaw and the others who were scrambling after a rake-off in the matter. The ones who are connected with the orphanage scheme now are men and women upon whom we can depend, and who mean business."