"Good!" exclaimed Mrs. Norton. "Where did you hear that, Kitty?"
"I just heard myself say it. I did it with my little hatchet."
"Sort of a double-edged axiom," observed Mrs. Harmon.
"I am su-u-u-ure," chimed Grandma Plympton, "that if Mr. Brown were here, and knew the circumstances, he would most wi-i-i-llingly offer to assist us. Of course, we should never take—what does not belong to us, without the owner's permission, but I am qui-i-i-i-ite sure that if we were to take them and put them back just where we got them, Mr. Brown would quite approve of it."
"Mother has a very high opinion of Stephen Brown," said Mrs. Plympton.
"Mr. Brown is quite a gentleman, indeed," said Grandma.
This advice, coming from so white a priestess, and in words that lent so musical and sweet a sanction, removed the last mote of conjecture from the air. Mrs. Wright, as usual, was the first to take action. Every set of women, probably, has its recognized clown, she who is just too cute and killing. And those who do not like her say she is tiresome and "silly." Mrs. Wright, in keeping with the character, went through the gate with exaggerated show of dissolute abandon.
"Come on, girls," she said, breaking into the rockery. "I do hope I 'll get one with feldspar in it, or something nice and interesting."
Mrs. Norton, having been the one to make the suggestion, now followed her own advice; Mrs. Dix, taking example from Mrs. Norton, came next; thus the motion was carried. And pretty soon the caravan moved forward, heavily laden with food for thought.
The next two houses in the line of march were those of Mrs. Jephson, and Mrs. Osgood and her sister Hannah—she was quite usually spoken of as Mrs. Osgood's sister; but the two latter had already gone.