When Joe and Plums were in the spare-room that night, neither daring to stretch out at full length lest he should soil the sheets more than was absolutely necessary, Master Potter whispered confidentially to his friend:
"Aunt Dorcas is a mighty good woman, Plums; but, 'cordin' to my way of thinkin', she's makin' a pile of trouble for herself."
"How?"
"Some day a reg'lar duffer like Dan Fernald will come along, an' then she'll get taken in mighty bad."
"Seems almost as if we ought'er stay here an' take care of her, don't it?"
"There's no sense thinkin' anything like that, Plums. This is our last night in a first-class bed, an' from to-morrow mornin' we've got to hustle jest the same as if we'd never had it so rich."
Then Joe fell asleep, to dream of the princess, and until aunt Dorcas awakened him, next morning, it was as if nothing had occurred to depose him from the position of guardian.
There was work enough for all three of the guests in the Milford cottage after breakfast had been served.
The little woman was preparing for her visit to the city as if she expected to be absent from home several days, instead of only a few hours, and the boys were called upon to assist in the household duties, although it is quite probable they were more of a hindrance than a help.
Dan was doing his best at washing the kitchen floor, Joe was trimming the lamps, and Plums piling up wood in the shed, when the Raymond carriage rumbled up the lane, causing the utmost confusion and dismay among aunt Dorcas's assistants.