"That you do!" exclaimed Mrs. Cobb, with emphasis. "And I'm glad you're goin'. But, sakes alive, I'm goin' ter miss ye, child!"
"I shall miss you, too," beamed Helen cordially.
"How long you goin' ter be gone?"
"I don't know, exactly. It'll depend, some, on Burke—I mean Mr. Denby—when he wants me to come back."
"Oh, ain't he goin', too?" An indefinable change came to Mrs. Cobb's voice.
"Oh, no, not with us," smiled Helen. "He's going to Alaska."
"To—Alaska! And, pray, what's he chasin' off to a heathen country like that for?"
"Tisn't heathen—Alaska isn't," flashed Helen, vaguely irritated without knowing why. "Heathen countries are—are always hot. Alaska's cold. Isn't Alaska up north—to the pole, 'most? It used to be, when I went to school."
"Maybe 'tis; but that ain't sayin' why he's goin' there, instead of with you," retorted Mrs. Cobb. In spite of the bantering tone in which this was uttered, disapproval was plainly evident in Mrs. Cobb's voice.
"He's going with his father," answered Helen, with some dignity.