"I want to talk to you seriously," said Dorothy.
"I'm all attention," said Mrs. Faulkner; "proceed with your seriousness."
"You and Mr. Faulkner have been here a week to-morrow," Dorothy went on, "and——"
"And you can't stand us any longer,—and you want to break it to me gently?"
"No, indeed, nothing of the sort! and you know that well. But I want to ask you frankly, and I want you to tell me honestly, how I have succeeded this week in what I have undertaken."
"What have you undertaken?" said Mrs. Faulkner, who dearly loved to make Dorothy formulate her thoughts.
"Why, I undertook to give you and Mr. Faulkner, in a general way, and so far as I could, just such comforts and accommodations as you would get at the average summer hotel."
"Is that all you tried to do?"
"I think," said Dorothy, speaking slowly, and thinking hard, "I think I tried to give you a little bit extra, in the way of home comforts and dainty service, to make up for the things that the average summer hotel provides, but which I can't give you."
"Like a brass band, for instance."