"Thank you," said Barney. "We've just come from there. You might write me a letter or two, Miss Emerson, while you're waiting. I've been neglected since I've been here."
"I shall be delighted," she returned, regarding his tanned face and permanent wave with high approval. "I love to write. I even like pencil and paper games, verbarium, and crambo, and all those. I've been trying to convert these men. I wish you would both come up and spend the evening and let me show you how much fun it is."
There was a wild look in the grave faces of her escorts which advised caution.
"You're always so kind, Miss Emerson," said Kelly.
"Shall we see you at dinner?" she asked.
"Depends on how good your eyes are," said Philip pleasantly. "We dine at home and then I'm off for Boston."
"Really? How can you bear to leave here!" Miss Emerson waved her parasol as the young men nodded and passed on.
"I think that Mr. Kelly is perfectly delightful," she said as they pursued their way. "So full of fun always." Then she proceeded to tell her captives how many words could be made from the one: c-a-r-p-e-t.
Philip and Barney walked around to the front of the Inn and there were Veronica and the unconscious young Herbert, leaning over the sweet-pea bed. Veronica was using the trowel and the boy was weeding. He glanced up under his lashes, then went on with his work. Veronica rose and welcomed the arrivals.
"You see, Aunt Priscilla keeps us at it, Mr. Barrison. She isn't going to have your garden neglected, and just look at the buds."