MARJORIE DEAN MACY’S
HAMILTON COLONY
CHAPTER I
“Something fine is going to happen, Bean.”
Jerry Macy leaned back in the roomy porch rocker, half-closed blue eyes squinting prophetically up at the turquoise August sky. “Yes, sir; it is.”
“Several fine things ought to happen, but they haven’t.” Marjorie Dean Macy’s emphasis upon the “ought” was energetically wistful.
“Something celostrous is coming this way,” Jerry continued to maintain. “It’s in the air.”
“I wish it would hurry up, and come, then. Captain was to be home from the beach yesterday. She hasn’t happened. Leila owes me a letter. That hasn’t happened yet. I haven’t heard from her for over a month, or from Vera, either. And there is Hamilton Arms, still boarded up and with no sign of Miss Susanna, or Jonas. Where is everybody? That’s what I’d like to know.”
“I’m with you yet, Mrs. Macy,” Jerry reminded pertinently. “And incidentally, you still have a nice kind husband.” She beamed upon the lovely occupant of the porch swing with pretended solicitude.
“Thank you for reminding me of my blessings.” Marjorie nodded laughing gratitude at Jerry. “What do you think is going to happen, wise sooth-sayer?” she asked in the next breath.