But a week was not allowed to elapse before the two girls saw an opportunity of crossing the bridge again to make a second visit to the haunted house. Miss Rindy one evening declared her intention of spending the next day in Portland. She had now almost recovered from her accident, and with the aid of her stick could get about perfectly with scarce a sign of a limp.
“Beulah will look after you,” she told the two girls. “She knows what to do, and if anything goes wrong, you, Ellen, can set it right. It won’t hurt you to take a little responsibility once in a while.”
“It seems to me that I have proved that I can,” retorted Ellen.
“Well, perhaps you have, in a measure, but that was at home; it is different here. One should be prepared to meet any emergency, no matter where.”
Ellen shrugged her shoulders. Why couldn’t Cousin Rindy give her the credit for having rather good judgment? However, she said nothing, but speeded her on her way, and then returned to Mabel, who had not risen for so early a breakfast as was necessary for Miss Rindy.
“What a lazybones I am,” said Mabel as she came down to find Miss Rindy gone and Ellen finished with her breakfast. “Gran always indulged me, so that if I wanted to linger in bed she never said a word. I am afraid I am not sufficiently grateful to Gran, but I don’t know that girls usually possess that virtue. We take what is done for us as a matter of course, expect it as our right. You are the only truly grateful young person I know, Ellen.”
“I? You don’t know me. I feel mighty sassy sometimes, and express my opinions accordingly, though I try never to forget what Cousin Rindy has done for me. If she were a really, truly parent, I might feel different, but as it is I consider that I would be a disgraceful ingrate if I lost sight of my benefits.”
“Lots of girls wouldn’t be so particular. It isn’t the modern fashion to show respect to your elders. I know girls who call down their parents as if they were the children and the girls were the parents. Oh, yes; boys, too, generally think they know it all. They call any one of a past generation a back number, non-progressive, and all that. I don’t quite agree with Gran when she says: ‘Young people think old people are fools; old people know young ones are;’ that always makes me mad, chiefly, I suppose, because it is said at a time when I want my own way.”
“I do suppose we should allow some value to experience,” replied Ellen thoughtfully. “How will you have your eggs, Mabel?”
“Oh, you dear thing, are you attending to my breakfast? You have made fresh coffee and toast, too. Where is Beulah?”