"Oh, well," sighed Miss Atherley, "never mind."
"What do you think?" cried Mrs. Atherley as she came in to breakfast next day. "There's a bird been nesting in the plantation!"
Miss Atherley looked at me in undisguised admiration. I looked quite surprised—I know I did.
"Well, well!" I said.
"You must come out afterwards and see the nest and tell me what bird it is. There are three eggs in it. I am afraid I don't know much about these things."
"I'm glad," I said thankfully. "I mean, I shall be glad to."
We went out eagerly after breakfast. On about the only tree in the plantation with a fork to it a nest balanced precariously. It had in it three pale-blue eggs splotched with light brown. It appeared to be a blackbird's nest with another egg or two to come.
"It's been very quick about it," said Miss Atherley.
"Of our feathered bipeds," I said, frowning at her, "the blackbird is notoriously the most hasty."