"Wait until my wool cheque
comes in, and you want a new frock--then you'll speak respectfully of my
little merinoes. And if you don't, you won't get the frock!"
"Why, I wouldn't disrespect them for anything," Tommy said. "I think
they're lovely beasts. So graceful and agile. Will any of them come yet
when you whistle, Bobby?"
"Are you going to put up with this sort of thing, Bob?" demanded Jim.
Bob smiled sweetly.
"I'm letting her have her head," he said confidently. "It's badly
swelled just now, because she's got a house of her own--but you wait
until she wants a new set of shelves, or a horse caught in a hurry
so that she can tear over and find out from Norah how to cook
something--then she'll come to heel. It's something in your climate, I
think, because she was never so cheeky at home--meek was more the word
to describe her."
"Meek!" said his sister indignantly. "Indeed, I never was meek in my
life!"
"Indeed you were, and it was very becoming," Bob assured her. "Now
you're more like a suffragette--" He stopped, staring. "Why, that's it!
It must be in the air! She knows she'll have the vote pretty soon!" He
broke into laughter. "Glory! Fancy little Tommy with a vote!"
Tommy joined in the general mirth.
"I hadn't realized it," she said, "and I needn't bother for over
eighteen months, anyhow. And I don't believe that any of you have ever
voted, even if you are twenty-one--except Mr.
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