Dilsey took Jack, and presently Miss Sabrina and her guest were floating northward. Eve longed to put her triumph into words: “The baby is mine! In the spring I am to have him.” But she refrained. “When does your spring begin?” she asked. “In February?”
“In March, rather,” answered Miss Sabrina. “Before that it is dangerous to make changes; I myself have never been one to put on thin dresses with the pinguiculas.”
“What are pinguiculas?—Birds?”
“They are flowers,” responded Miss Sabrina, mildly.
“It will be six weeks, then; to-day is the fifteenth.”
“Six weeks to what?”
“To March; to spring.”
“I don’t know that it begins on the very first day,” remarked Miss Sabrina.
“Mine shall!” thought Eve.
Romney was near the northern end of the home-island; the voyage, therefore, was a short one. The chimneys of Singleton House came into view; but the boat passed on, still going northward. “Isn’t that the house?” Eve asked.