"Well, have you been charging up hillsides, or racing Alfred on the beach?"
Mrs. Needham looked a little startled at the irreverent allusion. "Oh, no, only planning with Eliza, and—"
"You find Eliza a treasure, don't you?"
"Yes, she's very capable."
"I suppose a maid's capability must take on a special lustre in the wilderness. Don't you sometimes fancy you see a faint halo over Eliza's head? You people in this luxurious country have become so dependent, I don't know what you would do if there should ever be a general strike!"
"No, I don't know either," admitted Mrs. Needham. "Eliza talks of going back. It's so quiet up here—girls don't like it. We've raised her twice. I really don't know what's going to be the end of the help question. And wages ...!" She raised her eyes to the heavens.
A short silence followed. Marjory swung gently back and forth in the hammock. She might have been pronounced an eloquent embodiment of perfect calm; and yet her heart was curiously bumping about.
"Anna," she asked slowly, "do you remember Barrett O'Donnell?"
Her sister looked at her queerly a moment. "Some friend, Marjory?" For Marjory had had, in her time, so many friends!