"That does not seem to me a sensible way of going into the country," said Winnie. "I don't believe she has half the fun that we have in this old caravan."
"Perhaps not," I replied, "but I presume that Adelaide and Milly are driving about in much the same style; and we know that better-hearted girls never lived."
We picnicked near "Stockbridge Bowl," a lovely lake, blue as Geneva and encircled by beautiful hills. As father brought out the lunch-hamper I noticed a queer expression on his face. "What do you suppose I have found stowed away in the back part of the cart?" he asked.
"Not the soldering furnace?" we all replied, in unison.
He smiled grimly, and, instead of replying, placed it before us. "That Deerfield landlord must have packed it up without your knowledge," said Miss Sartoris. "Its reappearance is becoming really amusing; let us make one grand final effort to get rid of it by sinking it in the middle of the lake."
"Will you do it?"
"Certainly."
Miss Sartoris took the furnace and ran down to the lake, whence she presently returned empty-handed.
"Did you drown the creature?"
"Not exactly, but I gave an ancient fisherman whom I found there a quarter to commit the crime for me. I told him that it was something which we were tired of, and never wished to see again, and he promised me, in rather a mixed manner, that 'human hand should never find hide nor hair of it, nor human eye set foot on it again.'"