“Your vows to never do things again are about as stable as your present hold on an upright position,” said Clover, laying a steadying hand upon his friend’s waveringness. “Sit down, little boy, sit down.”
Burnett sat down, Mitchell smiled, Jack laughed, and Aunt Mary groaned.
The boat was rising and falling rapidly now, and as she ran further and further out into the ever freshening wind she kept on rising and falling yet more rapidly. The more motion there was the more Aunt Mary seemed to sift down in her two chairs.
“We’d better put back,” said Jack; “this won’t do, you know. How do you feel now, Aunt Mary?” he added, leaning over her.
Aunt Mary opened her eyes and looked at him but made no reply.
“Ask me how I feel, if you dare,” said Burnett, from where his chair was drawn up not far away. “I couldn’t kill you just now, but I will some day I promise you.”
He was very white and had a look about his mouth that showed that he meant what he said.
Some bells rang somewhere.
“That’s dinner,” exclaimed Clover.
Aunt Mary gave a piercing cry.