“I don’t really know,” her aunt replied quite seriously, “but I am quite sure they must be delicious, or we would have heard of it. Haven’t you often noticed how people like to tell you about the awful things they have to put up with on their travels? I have, and yet never have I heard a complaint about Brazil; so I have concluded it must be a most ideal spot.”
Dorothea chuckled.
“Yes, that’s so,” she said; “People are always telling you about the garlic in Italy and the smelly cheese in Norway, and—”
“And the rats in China,” Harriot put in, not to be outdone.
“Exactly,” Mrs. Stewart responded; “so, in my Mexican trunks, I am putting a few simple necessities in the food line.” She selected some packages of groceries and settled them in another of the trunks. “Of course you know I can’t live on the beans and peppery things that Mexicans eat.”
“But you aren’t going to both Mexico and Brazil?” Dorothea asked, her eyes opening in surprise.
“Of course not,” Mrs. Stewart replied with considerable pride. “That’s where my foresight comes in. I don’t know which place I may finally decide to select, so I am packing for both.”
At this announcement the girls exchanged amused glances, but Mrs. Stewart was diving into another trunk and did not see.
Harriot stayed long enough to secure the refreshments that sooner or later were always forthcoming, and then she suddenly discovered a good reason why they should be getting home again.
“Are you really going this time, Aunt Cora?” Harriot asked as they were taking their departure.