“Tell her it is 620 Westbank Road.”
“Six-twenty Westbank Road!” repeated Constance, in a surprised voice. “Why, that is Katherine Boggs’ address, and I am almost sure that Mammy knows it. Why did she ask for Katherine’s address, I wonder?”
“Don’t know, I’m sure, for Mammy’s ways and wishes are beyond the ken of the average mortal,” laughed Forbes, as he rose to take leave. As he was about to descend the steps he turned to Eleanor.
“By the way, if you haven’t anything special on hand for to-morrow afternoon, won’t you come for a stroll with me?” he asked.
“Now, don’t you do it, Eleanor,” broke in Hadyn. “He means to drag you clear to the top of that mountain, and these July days are over-warm for violent exertion. Can’t you see, Forbes, that the very thought of it is making her cheeks flush?”
“Here, eat another jumble, quick!” cried Constance, catching up the plate and rushing to the hammock.
Eleanor and Forbes had sauntered off down the terrace. Hadyn took a jumble, and with a laugh crowded the whole cake into his mouth, his eyes dancing with mischief.
At that moment Mammy popped her head out upon the piazza to ask:
“Is yo’ chillen all got ’nough jumbles?”
“One of them has more than he can manage,” was Constance’s merry reply. “Look at him, Mammy. It was the only way I could close his mouth when he was inclined to say more than was wise.”