"Never you mind, Quentina," soothed Genevieve. "We are interested in those things, really."
"Then you have seen it?"
"Er—n-no, not that one," confessed Genevieve, coloring. "But I've seen heaps of other graves there," she assured her hopefully, as if graves were the only open door to Quentina's favor.
"Oh, you've had such chances," envied Quentina. "Just think—Boston! You said you were near Boston?"
"Oh, yes."
"Less than two hours away?"
"Why, yes," exclaimed Tilly, "I told you. We're less than an hour and a half away."
"And are you a D. A. R., and Colonial Dames, and Mayflower Society members, and all that?"
"Dear me! I don't know," laughed Genevieve. "Why?"
"And do you read the Atlantic Monthly, and eat beans Saturday night, and fishballs Sunday morning?" still hurried on Quentina. "You don't any of you wear glasses, and I don't think you speak very low."