The latter part of the talk was far above Nita's head, but she had been quietly thinking of other things. At the pause which followed Zan's exclamation, she asked, "Is the car going to be sent down for us to use, Zan?"
"Car! What for?" wondered Zan.
"Why, to get to the stores in the town and carry back our provisions, of course! Then, too, we will want to see the country, won't we?" said Nita, surprised.
"Ha! There isn't a store within ten miles, but 'most everything grows right on the farm. A butcher calls twice a week, and eggs, butter, milk, and chickens are provided by Bill," explained Zan.
"Bill! Who's Bill?" asked some of the girls eagerly.
"Why, Bill's the farmer, of course. He lives in the farmer's cottage and looks after the place all winter, besides taking care of the gardens, cow and chickens all the year round. He works the place on shares in preference to a salary, and likes it first-rate, he says," replied Zan.
"Oh, we didn't know there was a resident farmer. When you mentioned tennis and croquet, to say nothing of the golf-links, you failed to give us a hint of farmer or wife," said Miss Miller.
"Well, I had my mind full of sports, you see, and I never class Bill as a sport!" laughed Zan, the others joining her.
"What's he like?" queried Jane, while Nita added, "Has he any sons?"
"Nita thinks, 'better a farmer than no son at all!'" teased Hilda, for Nita's preference for boys was no secret with the girls.