Читать книгу From the Land of the Snow-Pearls: Tales from Puget Sound онлайн

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“Oh, my, no!” said Demaris. Her eyes went wistfully to the pink rosebush. “I can’t stay.”

“Come fer kindlin’ wood?”

“No.” She laughed a little at the worn-out joke. “I come to see ’f you had two or three pink roses to spare.”

“Why, to be sure, a dozen if you want. Just come an’ help yourself. My hands ain’t fit to tech ’em after diggin’ so.”

She stood watching the girl while she carefully selected some half-open roses. There was a look of good-natured curiosity on her face.

“Anything goin’ on at the church to-night?”

“No; at least not that I know of.”

“It must be a party then.”

“No—not a party, either.” She laughed merrily. Her face was hidden as she bent over the roses, but her ears were pink under the heavy brown hair that fell, curling, over them.

“Well, then, somebody’s comin’ to see you.”

“No; I’ll have to tell you.” She lifted a glad, shy face. “I’m goin’ on the moonlight excursion.”

“Oh, now! Sure? Well, I’m reel glad.”

“So’m I. I never wanted to go anywheres so much in my life. I’ve been ’most holdin’ my breath for fear ma’d get sick.”