“I thank whoever it was. I had a beautiful time. Miss Ravanel is as quaint as an old gift book, and as lonely as—as a rook.”
“Rooks are not lonely,” said Keefe. “They go together in swarms.”
“Lonely rooks are lonely,” I said.
“I hope Miss Ravanel had received the apricot jam I sent her?”
“I have a note from her, aunt, to that effect. She has been meaning to thank you in person. She also—in the note—begs that I may spend the next fortnight with her.”
“Should you like to?” asked Uncle David in great surprise.
“Oh, immensely.”
“My dear Azalea!” cried Aunt Lorena incredulously.
“Why not? You advised me to make new friends. I have. She is my new friend.”
“But Delight Ravanel is old enough to be your mother! And she’s always raging at things and people. How can you possibly endure her for two weeks?”