“We are not to eat on the ground, then, or drink coffee from tin cups, or sleep in our clothes, or be bitten to death by mosquitoes, and finally exterminated by wild animals?”
Billie laughed joyously. She knew by these extravagant remarks that her cousin had been won over.
“None of those things,” she cried. “We are to lead a comfortable, beautiful rustic life, and I know you’ll just love it. There are lakes, cousin, exquisite, beautiful little gems of lakes; and trails all through the pine forests, and the walking isn’t a bit difficult——”
“Khaki skirts, did you say?”
“Yes, and sneakers.”
“What are they, child?”
“Rubber-soled shoes to keep you from slipping.”
Miss Campbell sighed.
“And at my age!” she said aloud, answering some unspoken thought. “Tell your father I accept, but it’s the last straw, and I may never see my comfortable old home again.”
Billie did not pause to disprove this dejected statement. She kissed her relative with the wild abandon of eighteen, rushed from the room and was down the stairs in a breathlessly short space of time.