"That sounds great"—began Dunham eagerly. "But I can't trouble you," he added. "Miss Sylvia has told me how to banish the light. What do you suppose Miss Martha would say if I asked her to lend me a black stocking?"
"Better not risk it," returned Edna, smiling. "Sylvia is going to stay with me a week. With the addition of yourself we shall compose a very select house party."
"I came over here to stay an hour," said Sylvia.
"So did I," added Dunham.
"Well," replied Edna, "we'll sail to the Tide Mill to-morrow and get you a few belongings."
"I trust you haven't had a moment's hope that I'd refuse," said John.
"It's too lovely for anything!" exclaimed Sylvia, taking one hand from her precious pail to squeeze her friend's arm.
She had been longing for a few days here to make her experiment. There was a promontory visible from the Fir Ledges—
They neared the cottage. "Now listen," said Edna merrily; "Miss Lacey has probably seen us. In a minute she'll come out on the piazza, and say, 'The supper isn't fit to be eaten. I should think, Edna,' and so forth, and so forth."
The words had scarcely left the girl's lips when Miss Martha bustled into view. "Here you are at last, you children," she said. "The supper isn't fit to be eaten. I should think, Edna, with your experience in the length of time it always takes to get home"—