As so often it happens, the day had turned out entirely different from their plans. Instead of target practice the girls chose other pursuits. Elizabeth was absorbed in her first successful sketches. Dalton brought back from the village some fine fish and reported that he had found out how to get to the county seat, where the deed would be recorded. He had found someone at the village who would drive him there.
Elizabeth was not admitted to this news, but after their delicious supper, she officiated as chief nurse in making Dalton comfortable. The other girls had given her the details of the accident.
“It will do no harm to wait a little in seeing about your building, Dalton,” consolingly said Beth, gently rubbing in the liniment. “By morning, though, this will feel better, I am sure.”
“Gee, your hands are soft, Beth. You are as good as Mother used to be!”
“That is about the nicest thing you could say to me, Dal,” returned his sister. “I’ve been a poor substitute, but I have wanted to take her place a little.”
“You are all right, Beth,” said Dalton, with boyish embarrassment over sentiment expressed. “You’ve had to do Father’s job too. Boy, that feels the best yet! Do you know what I’m going to do, Beth?”
“I am no mind-reader, Dal.”
“Well, I’ve decided to put off building or even cutting the trees for a week or two. I’ll fish and poke around in a boat, seeing the place. You and the girls will want to come along sometimes, too. We’ll go out and get you fine views of the shore and beach and all the rocks you want to sketch. And the next fish we eat may be what we have caught. How do you like lobster and shrimps, Beth?”
“I am perishing for some!”
“Here’s the boy that will get them for you!” Thus Elizabeth accepted the change of plan without being troubled by a knowledge of the cause.