“Oh, poor Aunty,” cried Polly, in sudden dismay. “I never told her where we were going, and she’ll think we’re drowned sure. Let’s hurry, now, and be businesslike. How much furniture is here, Tom?”
“Ain’t any at all,” said Tom, cheerfully. “Just some chairs, and a table, and some beds, and dishes.”
“Well, that’s all we’ll need,” Polly told him. “Did you think we wanted pianos or consoles?”
“Those aren’t furniture,” said Tom. “Those are just fixin’s.”
“Where can we get fresh water?” Kate asked.
“There’s a well at our place. I’ll bring you up some twice a day, and oftener if you need it. You can freshen the salt water for cooking. Mother’ll show you how.”
“I think it’s splendid to have near neighbors like you,” said Polly. “Maybe we’ll be able to do something for you before the summer’s over.”
Tom poked his bare toes into the sand sheepishly.
“Oh, that’s all right. Mother and Nancy are mighty glad you’ve come. It gets pretty lonesome way out here on the Sickle. I don’t mind it so much, because I’m going into the coast service with father as soon as I’m old enough, but Nancy wishes she had some girls to talk to. There’s plenty over in the village, but that’s too far off, and the crowd at the Orienta or the hotel and cottages, we folks don’t see much of. My Aunt Cynthy says she’ll take Nancy any time over in the village and bring her up, but mother says she guesses she’ll hang on to her only girl. Nancy likes you girls, because she says you seem different.”
“How do you mean?”