"He sent his mother a book about the place where he's going," said Mrs. Macy. "Do you want to see it?" She went in and brought it out.
Susan took the volume and viewed the title with an indifferent eye.
"Stark's Guide to the Bahamas," she read aloud. "What are they—something to eat?"
"You're thinking of bananas," suggested Mrs. Macy. "It's islands. It's where Columbus hit first. Nobody knows just where he hit, but he hit there; everybody knows that."
Susan placed the book under her arm. "I'll read it," she said briefly. "But I must say as to my order of thinking Jathrop's setting off just now is very much like a hen getting up from her eggs. Here's you and me—" addressing Mrs. Lathrop directly—"with our houses done away with, and him as has engineered the wreck skipping away with a parcel of men."
"He isn't skipping," interposed Mrs. Macy. "He's sailing—sailing in his own private boat, like the tea-man with the cup."
"Oh, I don't care what he's doing," said Susan, rising. "I'm about beat out, and I'm going home and going to bed. Such a week! The Bible says 'Whom the Lord loveth He chaseth,' and heaven knows I've been chased this week till my legs is about wore off. Such a week! I've had all the chasing I want for one while. And I never was great on being loved, so I'm going home and going to bed."
Whereupon, with the Guide to the Bahamas under her arm and a heavy fold between her brows, Susan Clegg stalked over to her temporary domicile.
"I don't think Susan's very well," said Gran'ma Mullins.
"Maybe she's worried over Jathrop," suggested Mrs. Macy.