"No, we'd have to ride, but the rent is so much lower it would pay our carfare." "Gee!" said George again, "isn't that great? And is this the guy that owns it?" "Yes, or at least he and his father do. He's been very kind. He's taking all this trouble to take us out in his car to-day to make sure if there is anything that needs to be done for our comfort there. He certainly is an unusual man for a landlord." "He sure is, Shirley. I guess mebbe he has a case on you the way he looks at you." "George!" said Shirley severely, the red staining her cheeks and her eyes flashing angrily. "George! That was a _dreadful_ thing for you to say. If you ever even think a thing like that again, I won't have anything to do with him or the place. We'll just stay in the city all summer. I suppose perhaps that would be better, anyway." Shirley got up and began to button her coat haughtily, as if she were going out that minute. "Aw, gee, Shirley! I was just kidding. Can't you take a joke? This thing must be getting on your nerves. I never saw you so touchy." "It certainly is getting on my nerves to have you say a thing like that, George." Shirley's tone was still severe. "Aw, cut the grouch, Shirley. I tell you I was just kidding. 'Course he's a good guy. He probably thinks you're cross-eyed, knock-kneed----" "George!" Shirley started for the door; but the irrepressible George saw it was time to stop, and he put out an arm with muscles that were iron-like from many wrestlings and ball-games with his fellow laborers at the store. "Now, Shirley, cut the comedy. That guy'll be coming back next, and you don't want to have him ask what's the matter, do you? He certainly is some fine guy. I wouldn't like to embarrass him, would you? He's a peach of a looker. Say, Shirley, what do you figure mother's going to say about this?" Shirley turned, half mollified. "That's just what I want to ask you, George. I don't want to tell mother until it's all fixed up and we can show it to her. You know it will sound a great deal worse to talk about living in a barn than it will to go in and see it all fixed up with rugs and curtains and screens and the piano and a couch, and the supper-table set, and the sun setting outside the open door, and a bird singing in the tree." "Gee! Shirley, wouldn't that be some class? Say, Shirley, don't let's tell her! Let's just make her say she'll trust the moving to us to surprise her. Can't you kid her along and make her willing for that?" "Why, that was what I was thinking. If you think there's no danger she will be disappointed and sorry, and think we ought to have done something else." "What else could we do? Say, Shirley, it would be great to sleep in the hay-loft!" "We could just tell her we were coming out in the country for the summer to camp in a nice place where it was safe and comfortable, and then we would have plenty of time to look around for the right kind of a house for next winter."