"Not right now," said Grandfather, rising suddenly and starting for the
barn. "I'm too busy to stop any more." And that was the last they saw
of him all afternoon.

"I do think that's the queerest," said Grandmother as she looked after
her husband. "He's always so anxious to hear letters and I know he
isn't as busy as he makes out. But if he don't want to tell he won't,
Mary Jane, so I guess we'd better stop thinking about it."

Mary Jane ran up to her room to put her precious letter away for
safe-keeping. Then she and Grandmother tidied up the dinner work and
dressed for afternoon. Grandmother didn't have lots of hard work to
do, as some farm folks have, for she and Grandfather had long ago
stopped doing the hardest work on the farm. They rented out most of
their land and kept for themselves only enough garden and chicken yard
and pasture to make them feel comfortably busy. So Grandmother had
plenty of time for pleasant walks and rides with Mary Jane.

Grandfather seemed to be tired at supper that evening so nothing was
said about secrets or letters or anything like that, and he went off to
bed about as soon as Mary Jane did.

But the next morning he seemed rested and jolly as ever.

"Do you happen to know any little girl around here who wants to work
with me today?" he asked at the breakfast table.

"That's what Daddah says when he wants me to work in my garden," said
Mary Jane.