“We haven’t any guest chamber,” explained Mrs. Anderson, with a laugh; “but you,” taking Mrs. Leighton by the arm, “will share my bedroom with me. Captain Anderson will sleep in the boathouse, and the boy can sleep on the couch in this room.”
Their hostess had already led Mrs. Leighton into the adjoining room. So Andy improved the opportunity to look about. The room had a sort of seaside air. Within an unusual fireplace of stone, stood the model of a schooner-rigged yacht. On the mantel was a large silver cup, apparently a prize or a trophy, while at the right and the left of it, were large pink-hearted conch shells. On the wall above was a decoration of pink, yellow, and purple West Indian sea fans.
While the highly interested boy was noting these things, Captain Anderson reappeared.
“I reckon mother can see to something in the way of eatin’, Andy,” he said with a laugh, “and we’ll just about have time to get the trunks.”
As the boy responded with a laugh of his own he pointed to the sea fans on the wall.
“They don’t grow here, do they?” he asked.
“Those?” said the boy’s host. “Oh, no; they came from the sea gardens near Nassau. Mrs. Anderson and I usually sail over there each spring—for a change.”
“From here?” asked Andy.
“Why not?” responded the captain, with a smile. “But I suppose you don’t know that the Indian River is only an arm of the sea. It runs all along the coast like a big inland lake, and there are several places where you can get out to sea.”