Olea the cook knitted slowly and thoughtfully.
“It would be just like you to stand on the table,” she said dryly. “And if the people had any bringing up, of course they shook hands with you as with everybody else.”
“No. Nobody stood on the table but me,” said Johnny Blossom. “And they didn’t shake hands with any one else either; and that is as true—as true”—
“Humph! It’s very likely that they paid their respects to such a great man as you!” said Olea.
“My uncle the Admiral made a speech about me, too,” continued Johnny Blossom.
“The boy is crazy,” said Olea, knitting on in unbroken calm.
“What did Uncle say?” asked Asta.
“He said—he said—that I must fill the station with honor; I didn’t understand exactly what that meant, but he said it because I am to have Kingthorpe. But I will not live there; they may all be sure of that.”
“He is crazy as a loon!” said Olea. But Lisa the nursemaid was more interested.
“You are to have Kingthorpe, did you say?”