"Dear Mr. Williams," said Gwen enthusiastically. "He is my love, Ethel. The very dearest man on the island."
"Millionaires excepted."
"No one excepted. I don't know what we should do without him. Did you see Miss Phosie, Aunt Cam?"
"Yes, and I asked her about the milk. We can have more next week. What do you suppose Mrs. Baldwin said when I told her the milk was sour this morning?"
"Can't imagine. I hope she said that, of course, you couldn't be expected to pay for milk you couldn't use."
"Not a bit of it. She said 'What can you expect when the milk's two hours coming from Portland, and then sets out in the sun for an hour before it's delivered?'"
"Aunt Cam! Did you ever?" Gwen exclaimed. "What did you say?"
"My dear, I was so taken aback I said nothing. Our points of view were so different that an argument would have been useless. It is quite on a par with the chicken experience. Last Sunday, Ethel, we had such a tough fowl that no amount of boiling, baking or stewing could make it fit to eat. We'd had a very nice one the week before. But what do you think Dan Stork said when we complained? With the most innocent of smiles he answered, 'That so, Miss Elliott? Well, such is life; tender chicken last week, tough one, this.'"
"I am getting quite an insight into matters and things," said Ethel after the laugh had subsided. "I believe, after all, one needn't be bored here."
"Come with us to Water Cove to-morrow," said Gwen. "I will share Cephas with you for one afternoon, and I can show you some interesting types. Have you seen Miss Zerviah Hackett? And what do you think of Mrs. Green?"