"The island's filling up," said the old lady. "A lot of the summer people came yesterday and from now on they'll flock in."
"Are you glad to see them come?" asked Diana.
"Yes," returned Mrs. Dorking, a rising inflection in her kindly voice. "They're most of them good friends of mine."
"I should say she is glad," remarked Philip. "She sits here in state and receives them all, don't you, Grammy?"
"I don't know as there's much state about it." The old lady smiled, and leaned toward Diana. "Miss Wilbur, I guess you've found out already that Philip is the foolishest boy that ever lived. We can't afford to mind his talk, can we?"
"But his singing, Mrs. Dorking," Diana looked up at Philip's tow head towering toward the low ceiling. "It doesn't greatly matter how he talks when he can sing as he does."
"Yes," returned the old lady, again with the moderate rising inflection. "I will say Philip's got a real pretty voice."
"And there is a piano!" said Diana, wistfully looking across the room at the ancient square instrument.
"That is a very polite name for it," remarked Philip.