Minerva appeared at the door, not with her hand raised, but in an attitude that said “Please, may I speak,” and Ethel, with a hasty look at Hepburn, said, “What is it, Minerva?”
“Now James wanted to know where’s he’s to build that lean-to.”
“The what?” said Ethel.
“That’s all right,” said Tom, grasping the situation. “You tell James to wait until after breakfast and I’ll come out and show him.”
Minerva shut the door and Tom said, “She believes in free speech.”
“I must speak to her,” said Ethel.
But there was a general chorus of objections, Hepburn expressing his opinion by saying, “It strikes me as awfully quaint, you know.”
After breakfast Tom took me aside and said,
“Now, see here, Phil, this deluge wasn’t expected by you, but I don’t see any indication of the waters subsiding. We all want to stay. Now hospitality is hospitality, but we’re not paupers and we’re not rich enough to feel that we can live on you all summer without a murmur. You understand? Now, I’ve forced Billy and Jack on you, and I’ve been talking with Hepburn and Benedict, and we’re going to form a pool to cover expenses. Don’t want you to make a cent out of us, but we don’t want you to be out of pocket, and so if you’ll let us pay our share of the bills when they come in we’ll stay. Otherwise we all go back to-morrow. Yes, sir, we all go back to-morrow. I’m in earnest.”
Tom was a curious mixture of simplicity and worldly wisdom, and I could not help laughing at him.