The Admiral said he understood perfectly, and Polly paused long enough to hug him, before she asked,
“Have you ever seen the place at all?”
“In a general way, but I don’t remember much about it. It’s a quiet, pretty bay, and there’s a village at one end and a row of summer cottages along the shore. I went up there to attend a regatta one year, the first year Milly joined the yacht club. She did it for the sake of the boys, because they were very enthusiastic over their new boats.”
“But you’ve never been on Lost Island.”
“Never.”
“It’s got such a queer name, hasn’t it? Lost Island. I wonder if it ever did get lost.”
“I believe it did. Seems to me that Milly used to tell how the shore line shifted about with winter storms, but you girls won’t be there in stormy weather. If you catch a few heavy equinoctials along at the end of August, it’s about all you can expect. From what Milly wrote to me, it is altogether sheltered from the open sea, and the very best place you could possibly find for a club for girls. Better figure on a good stock of life preservers.”
“I did put down life preservers, grandfather,” Polly said seriously. “And I showed Aunty the list, and what do you suppose she said? She told me that Annie May’s doughnuts would make the best ones she knew anything about. Isn’t that delicious?”
“Is you out in dat dew and damp, all uncovered, chile?”
Welcome’s resolute tones rang out from the upper window, and Polly obeyed instantly. She might coax and persuade the Admiral, but with Welcome there was no compromise, and Polly knew it.