It was with positive gratitude one morning that she heard Uncle Sid's ponderous knock on her door and his raucous voice calling to her.
"Come, Helen. Let's you and me take a walk before the sun has burned the dust all off o' the grass."
"All right, Uncle Sid! I'll be there in a moment."
She was up and dressed almost before the echo of Uncle Sid's voice had died away.
Uncle Sid eyed her approvingly as she stepped into the hall.
"Pretty trim lookin' craft," he remarked. "Don't take you long to get under way, either."
"Where are you going, Uncle Sid?"
"Anywhere, so I get out o' the smell o' varnish! Sand's better'n that." Uncle Sid wrinkled his nose in deep disgust. "You can blow sand off; but this stuff! It just soaks into you till you can taste it."
Helen laughed.
"It is penetrating."