"We're going back to Washin'ton."
"Thank de Lawd! When?"
"I don't know. I've just this instant made up my mind. I think we'll start—let's see: this is the sixth of August, isn't it? Well, look and see, if you don't know, stupid. The tenth? My goodness, where has the time gone, anyway? Well? we'll start sometime between the eleventh and the twelfth."
"Of dis monf, Miss Bev'ly?"
"No; September. I want you to look up a timetable for me to-day. We must see about the trains."
"Dey's on'y one leavin' heah daily, an' hit goes at six in de mo'nin'. One train a day! Ain' 'at scan'lous?"
"I'm sure, Aunt Fanny, it is their business—not ours," said Beverly severely.
"P'raps dey mought be runnin' a excuhsion 'roun' 'baout Septembeh, Miss Bev'ly," speculated Aunt Fanny consolingly. "Dey gen'ly has 'em in Septembeh."
"You old goose," cried Beverly, in spite of herself.
"Ain' yo' habin' er good time, honey?"