"Most everything people wanted. Dry goods, groceries, sweet biscuits—you'd call it cake—and we had quite a trade in Sundaes."
"What is a Sunday?"
Mordaunt laughed. "A little delicacy you consume on the spot. I imagine it's sometimes an ice and sometimes a sweetmeat, or a cleverly mixed drink. Perhaps it's oftenest enjoyed on Sundays and holidays, but they don't spell it with a y."
"I must try to remember. But who made these nice things?"
"Carrie," said Mrs. Winter, with a look of pride. "She baked the biscuit, too."
"I don't think I should like baking. One must get so hot," Evelyn remarked, and turned to Carrie. "Was it hard work?"
Carrie was talking to Dick Halliday, but she looked up and laughed, although there was a touch of color in her face.
"Oh, no," she said. "Anyhow, it was not as hard as cooking for the boys in the woods. I did all the cooking, and they liked the hash I put up."
Jim thought Carrie's western accent was rather marked and wondered why she had said hash. Evelyn's questions had been asked with languid good humor, as if she meant to draw Carrie into the talk, but somehow Jim got a hint of antagonism between the girls. This puzzled him and he was glad when Mrs. Halliday began to talk about something else. Evelyn did not support her much, but Mrs. Halliday was firm.
"You must tell us about your adventures," Evelyn said, as they got up, but when they went on the terrace Jim followed Carrie. Although he wanted to talk to Evelyn, Carrie must not feel neglected. She gave him a rather curious smile when he stopped by the stone bench she occupied.