Miss Peters rolled her eyes with a quick dart at her sister.
"They do say she's very close in the kitchen," she remarked; "and the butcher told Susan that they only go in for New Zealand."
Mrs. Butler rose from her seat, to express more markedly her disgust for colonial viands.
"Ugh!" she said. "Catch me putting a morsel of that poisonous stuff inside my mouth. Well, well, you'll see I'm right, Maria. She don't pay her way, so she's ashamed, and well she may be, to look honest folk in the face."
"Beatrice has got up to the other boat," interrupted Miss Peters. Give me the glass, quickly, Martha. My word, the two boats are touching. And—would you believe it?—one of the young ladies is getting into Bee's boat, Martha. She's towing Driver's boat after her own! Well, well, that will be nuts to Mrs. Bertram. I declare, Martha, I shouldn't be one bit surprised if that young jackanapes of a brother fell in love with our Bee."
"He won't get her for his pains," retorted Mrs. Butler. "Those who don't pay their way won't touch Beatrice Meadowsweet's fortune. But, there, I'm sick of the subject. Let's talk of something else. Isn't that Mrs. Gorman Stanley coming down the street? Open the window and call out to her, Maria. Ask her if she wants me to send her round one pound of butter, or two from the farm?"
CHAPTER VII.
REPLY FOR US, KATE.
Beatrice Meadowsweet and the Bertrams spent a delightful day together. The Bertrams frankly owned their inability to manage a boat. They welcomed her timely assistance, and thanked her for offering it, and then the young folk laughed and joked together, the Bertrams secretly finding Beatrice all the more interesting and fascinating because they knew that their mother would not quite approve of their being found in her society.