If the elderly spinster, Miss Brazilla, might be said to have a failing it was loquacity, and Gene moved restlessly.
Instantly she was at his side. “There now, dearie,” the really kind-hearted woman exclaimed self-rebukingly, “I’d ought to’ve pushed that couch farther to the starboard side o’ this deck.” Then she laughed apologetically. “That salt water language will crop out now’n then, try as I may to talk fine, like city folks. There! Is that better? The sun don’t shine right into your eyes now like it did. Wall, as I was sayin’, if Rilly can come in time to eat with yo’, ’twill be a reg’lar party for her an’——”
Poor Gene, realizing that Miss Brazilla was launched again upon another flood of conversation, tried to think of a way to politely interrupt, if an interruption ever can be polite. The word “party” caught his attention. Many a time he had heard his sister Helen say, “It’s never a real party unless there’s ice cream.” Maybe all girls felt that way.
The housekeeper was actually turning to leave, having reached a period, and Gene made haste to inquire: “Miss Brazilla, is there any place in Tunkett where we could get some ice cream?”
The amazed spinster shook her head, on which the rather sparse red-grey hairs were drawn back and down with oily smoothness.
“Why, no, Master Gene, not arter the summer colony folks go. When the hot weather’s on, Mrs. Sol makes it.”
“Telephone her, please, Miss Brazilla, and ask her if she couldn’t make some right away now and put strawberries in it. Tell her that she may name her own price.”
Miss Mullet lifted her hands in amazement. “Land o’ Goshen!” she ejaculated. “Ice cream with strawberries in October.”
Then noting that the lad had dropped back among the pillows and closed his eyes as though he were suddenly very weary, the good woman slipped away to do his bidding, strange as it might seem. “Sick folks take notions,” she said to herself, “but this is the tarnal queerest I ever heerd of.”
Half an hour later there was a timid rap on the side door. Miss Brazilla hurried to open it, and, as she had hoped, there stood Muriel Storm.