“I don’t see why not.  There’s nothing about a silk-lined overcoat to prevent.”  Sally’s tone was spirited.  She thrust her hands into the pockets of the small ruffled apron she wore, and her elbows assumed an argumentative air.  The black ribbon which tied her lengthening curly locks into a knot upon her head seemed to acquire a defiant effect.  Evidently she was prepared to take sides in this matter.  “If rich men’s sons can learn railroading and mining and every other kind of business that soils their hands, I don’t know what’s to prevent one of them from learning farming.”

“Oh, he’ll get hold of a tremendous amount of book wisdom—­I’m prepared for that,” admitted Max.  “But it takes a practical man to be a farmer.  He’ll want to use up a lot of money in experiments, of course—­”

But Sally had disappeared into the hall, and was throwing open the front door.  The sleigh, however, was going on past the house to the barn.  “That means he intends to stay,” reflected the girl and ran back to the kitchen for a few hurried words with Mary Ann Flinders.  It was not the habit of the house materially to change any plans for the table on account of unexpected arrivals, but there were certain dishes Jarvis was known to enjoy so much that Sally liked to confront him with at least one of them, when she could.

“Make some of the apple-fry to go with the baked beans, please, Mary,” she directed.  “And be sure to put in plenty of sugar so it will get brown and candied, the way we like it.  Use the Baldwin apples, and leave the red skins on the slices—­that makes it look prettiest.”

She peeped into the small kitchen mirror as she went by, the mirror whose presence was designed to point out to Mary Ann that her rough red locks might now and then need smoothing.  Sally’s own hair was the source of considerable bother at present, it having reached that stage, in its growth since her fever, when it was neither short nor long, and called for much skill in arrangement.  She tucked in a stray curl or two, gave a perk to the black bow, stood on her tip-toes to make sure that the silk knot which fastened her sailor collar was in trim shape, and felt of the crisp strings which tied her decidedly coquettish apron, to ascertain that that bow was also snug.  Then she looked round at Mary Ann, and caught that young person eyeing her slyly, but with great admiration.  Sally laughed, and Mary Ann giggled.  Then the latter glanced significantly out of the kitchen window toward the barn, whence a tall figure was issuing with its arms full of books and magazines.

“I guess I’d know, Miss Sally,” ventured Mary Ann, “who was comin’ if I didn’t see for myself.  Apple-fry, an’ you primpin’ up like that when you don’t need it at all, bein’ always tidy—­”

“Mary, I’m surprised at you,” said Sally severely, and walked out of the kitchen with her head up.  But she had laughed, and Mary Ann was not afraid.