“Do you think it is going to storm?” he asked Mitchell. Mitchell was scraping his saucer with the thrift that thrives north of the Firth of Forth and hatches yachts on the west shores of the Atlantic.
“I don’t think at all during vacation,” he said mildly. “I repose and reap ‘Oh’s’—from other people.”
“If there was any chance of a storm——?” said the nephew, thoughtfully.
“Fiddle-dee-dee,” said Burnett impatiently, “what do you think yachts are for, anyhow? To let alone?” He looked at the maid as he spoke and pointed significantly to the door. She went out at once and returned upstairs to her mistress whom she found quite restless to “get-a-goin’” as she expressed it.
The boxes filled with yesterday’s purchases were brought out at once and Janice proceeded to rubber-sole and blue-serge Aunt Mary. The latter regarded every step of the performance in the huge three-fold cheval glass which had been wont to tell Mrs. Rosscott things that every woman longs to know.
When her toilette was complete it must be admitted that as a yachtswoman Aunt Mary fairly outshone her automobile portrait. She surveyed herself long and carefully.
“I expect it’ll be quite an experience,” she said with many new wrinkles of anticipation.
“Yes,” said Janice, with a glance at the fluttering window curtains, “I expect it will be.”
Aunt Mary went downstairs and was greeted with loud acclamations. The breakfast party broke up at once and, while Janice phoned for cabs, Aunt Mary’s quartette of escorts sought hats, coats, etcetera. After that they all sallied forth and took their places as joyfully as ever.
It was quite a long drive to where “Lady Belle” had been brought up, and they had to stop once to lay in two or three pounds of current literature.