"The old girl looks as spry as ever," said Nelson disrespectfully. "And I guarantee she already has her hammer out."
"Nelson! And you criticize Marty's language!" laughed Janice.
"There is some slang, young lady, that so adds to the forcefulness of English that the dictionaries adopt it. Say! are you going to stop for her?"
"Oh, I must, Nelson," Janice said with a rueful glance at the schoolmaster.
"Then, to quote my slangiest pupil again—good-night!" and Nelson went away cheerfully to greet several of the young men of the town grouped on the other side of the wharf.
"Well, well, Janice Day!" chirped the little old woman with a birdlike tilt of her head when the girl welcomed her. "You be a pleasant sight to see when a body comes home. And I be glad to get home. I tell my son's wife I can't make many more of these trips to Skunk's Holler. It's too fatiguing, and at my age I like my own bed and my own fireside. I s'pose Rill's well?"
"Very well—and very happy," said Janice softly, looking at the sharp-featured old woman with grave eyes.
"'Sthat so? Well, I s'pect she's relieved in her mind now the bar at the hotel is closed," snapped Mrs. Scattergood. "Hopewell Drugg can't go fur astray if he don't go playin' that fiddle of his to no more o' them dances. Though you can't trust no man too fur—that's been my experience with 'em."
"Oh, dear, me! how unfortunate you have been all your life, Mrs. Scattergood," sighed Janice. There was laughter in her eyes if her lips were grave. Mrs. Scattergood's fault-finding character was well known to the girl.
"Hi, Janice!" broke in Marty Day's voice, and he came puffing up the hill after his cousin and Mrs. Scattergood. "How-do, Miz' Scattergood? Did y'see Tom Hotchkiss come ashore?"