"Only a poor artist, not worthy your powers of fascination," returned Gwen indifferently.
"He might be good fun for a summer," remarked Ethel reflectively. "It isn't fair for you to have two when I have none, you know, and the artist, poor though he may be in pocket is much better off as to looks."
"I shouldn't call him handsome," said Gwen.
"No, not exactly, but nice looking, well set up, carries himself with an air. If you must have the millionaire, I shall take the artist."
Gwen opened the hand which had been clasping a small pebble banded about by a dark line. She began tossing the little stone from one hand to the other. "Take him by all means," she said, though adding to herself, "if you can. There's Aunt Cam," she said aloud. "She will be glad to see a neighbor."
Miss Elliott came out upon the porch. "Gwen," she said, "I do wish you would see what can be done about a washerwoman. Lizzie can't do the laundry work, you know, and I'd rather not send everything to Portland. Do you suppose there is such a thing as a washerwoman to be had?"
"I think it is quite possible," responded Gwen. "Miss Phosie was telling me of one the other day. She lives at the other end of the island. Mr. Mitchell and I are going to Water Cove to-morrow, and we can hunt her up. Here's Ethel Fuller, Aunt Cam. We shall soon have quite a colony from our city, sha'n't we?"
Miss Elliott came forward. "It is a surprise to see you here, my dear," she said holding out her hand. "Is your aunt with you?"
"Yes," Ethel told her. "We are at Mrs. Green's for the season."
"I hope you are comfortable."