But the Captain only laughed until he coughed, and Nancy had to pat him on the back.
That afternoon the yacht club entertained in its own, particular fashion. Nancy came over, but Tom went down to the station with his father. Some day he meant to go on duty there too. It was one of the Captain’s boasts that three generations of Careys had patrolled that strip of rock-strewn coast, “and there’s another one in the making,” he always added; so Tom would square his shoulders and try to look like one of the crew.
The doctor dined at the hotel that day with Commodore Vaughan and his family, and it was late afternoon before the girls caught sight of the white motor boat cutting its way across the sparkling waters of the sunlit bay. The broad veranda looked very cool and restful that afternoon. Polly and Kate had spread all the available mats and had carried out the round table from the sitting-room, dropping new magazines over it invitingly, with a pitcher of fruit lemonade and a plate of hermits to nibble on.
“Hermits, do you call these?” asked Bess, as she bit into her third one. “I never heard of them, but they’re just dandy.”
“Well, there are hermits and hermits,” Polly explained. “But Aunty Welcome’s are the best we’ve ever had, much better than Annie May’s at the Hall. How do you make them, Aunty?”
Welcome paused in the kitchen doorway, her hands on her broad hips, her brown eyes fairly shining with delight at their appreciation of her cooking.
“I takes some flour, and den I takes some ’lasses, and it has to be good ’lasses. None ob dis syrupy trash dat just drizzles down. I want ’lasses you can hyar go kerflop when it hits de dish; yas, I do.” She shook all over with laughter. “Den I takes some cream, den I takes some spices, and some brown sugar, and some eggs, and I mixes ’em up good. Den I jes’ puts in all de ’vailable fruit I got lying ’round, raisins, and currants, and citron, and figs, and dates, and nuts, any ole thing. And den I bakes ’em.”
“And we eat ’em,” concluded Sue, forcibly.
Even the doctor shook with laughter over the recipe.
“But I’m afraid if we tried to make some, Aunty, we’d make a failure of it,” he said. “And they are certainly fine. Please may I have some marmalade with mine?”