Mrs. Carroll studied the bright face soberly for a moment.
"Yes, I'd advise it, Sue," she said then gravely. "I don't think that the atmosphere where you are is the best in the world for you just now. It would be a fine change. It would be good for those worries of yours."
"Then I'll do it!" Susan said suddenly, the unexplained tears springing to her eyes.
"I think I would. I'll go and see Miss Berrat next week," Mrs. Carroll said. "There's the boat making the slip, Sue," she added, "let's get the table set out here on the porch while they're climbing the hill!"
Up the hill came Philip and Josephine, just home from the city, escorted by Betsey and Jim who had met them at the boat. Susan received a strangling welcome from Betts, and Josephine, who looked a little pale and tired after this first enervating, warm spring day, really brightened perceptibly when she went upstairs with Susan to slip into a dress that was comfortably low-necked and short-sleeved.
Presently they all gathered on the porch for dinner, with the sweet twilighted garden just below them and anchor lights beginning to prick, one by one, through the soft dusky gloom of the bay.
"Well, 'mid pleasures and palaces---" Philip smiled at his mother.
"Charades to-night!" shrilled Betts, from the kitchen where she was drying lettuce.
"Oh, but a walk first!" Susan protested. For their aimless strolls through the dark, flower-scented lanes were a delight to her.
"And Billy's coming over to-morrow to walk to Gioli's," Josephine added contentedly.