“Answers to the advertisement, eh?” asked Betsy with interest.
“Better than that! How wonderfully good people are! Mr. Derwent actually went to Portland weeks ago, and managed somehow, so that yesterday I received a summons from the Moore School to come and take up my work there. It seems that some of the faculty have heard me at the inn, and it’s settled, practically.”
“All the better, child. Cap’n Salter and I’d never get tired o’ havin’ you here, but you wouldn’t be satisfied with an idle winter in Fairport. Come in my room and sit down for a chat. I’m doin’ some mendin’, and we can settle all the affairs o’ the nation.”
Rosalie followed into the front room, and seated herself by a low window looking out on the gray billows.
“Good-by, summer,” she said, as if to herself.
Betsy glanced at her and sat down by the bed where were scattered articles of clothing.
“The swallows are making them ready to fly,
Wheeling out on a windy sky—”
sang the girl softly.