“She is attending to things up-stairs. You know I don’t mind doing such things for you, Mabel.”
“Consider yourself kissed for that speech. The eggs? Oh, yes, suppose you scramble them; you always do them so beautifully that way.”
“A bouquet for me in return for mine,” said Ellen laughing, as she went out to the kitchen. “What are we going to do with ourselves to-day?” she asked as she came back with the eggs.
“Why, let me see. Oh, Ellen, why isn’t this just our chance to go to the haunted house?”
“Of course; you’ve said it, child. By the way, have you heard that the polite young man of the post-office incident is not Robert MacDonald? He and some others are camping on a neighboring island. He just happened to be here that day.”
“Who told you all that?”
“Cap’n Belah; you know he keeps wind of everything that goes on. I met him on my way from the boat this morning after seeing Cousin Rindy off, and he asked me facetiously why I wasn’t keeping my weather eye out for ‘them boys over on Halsey’s Island, likely-lookin’ chaps.’ ‘What boys?’ I asked. ‘Do you know their names?’ Wal, he cal’lated that he couldn’t name ’em all, but the one that came over oftenest for supplies went by name of Tom Clayton. They cruised around consid’rable in a motor-boat, there was something like half a dozen of ’em, and they had h’isted tents, was kind of soldiering, he cal’lated.”
Mabel laughed at Ellen’s imitation. “Well, you have done well in gathering in your sheaves so early in the morning. Anything more?”
“I asked if one was named Robert MacDonald. I couldn’t resist that question, Mabel. But Cap’n Belah ‘disremembered,’ so I didn’t gain anything by ‘satiable curiosity.’ Shall we go this morning or this afternoon?”
“This afternoon, I think, for I must write some letters this morning.”