[CHAPTER XXI.]
THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN.
"This must be the liner," Mrs. Sanford declared upon the following morning, looking out at the pouring rain. "I doubt Bathalina will not come to-day."
The event proved her mistaken; for Mrs. Mixon walked over from Samoset, despite the storm, her bundles hanging about her until she looked like one of the seven wives of the man met upon the road to St. Ives. Flossy saw her coming up the walk which led to the kitchen-door, the water streaming from every fold and end of her garments and belongings.
"Behold a water-nymph!" she said. "She's so fond of washing, I suppose she feels as if she were in her native element."
"She looks a good deal like an angel dragged through a brush-fence into a world of bitterness and woe," commented Will.
"There are marriages of convenience," Patty said; "but Bathalina certainly made a marriage of inconvenience."
"Let's go and see her," proposed Flossy.