“The one who found you lying up behind the boulder?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, she ate a piece of every kind of pie. That’s doing pretty well for a girl born out of New England. She looks as though she came of good stock not to be seafaring.”
“Her ancestors went West in a prairie schooner and I fancy they had as much to contend with and more than ours did on the bounding billows,” laughed Tim. “Will you ask her to come visit you over at ’Sconset?”
“Are you serious, boy?”
“As serious as I ever was in my life. Her last name is Bliss and if she will have me that will be my middle name for the rest of my life. Don’t tell Mother. I want to wait and see if she will have me. I don’t see how she can.”
“I don’t see how she can help it if she has any sense,” declared Esther with some indignation. “Not have you indeed!”
“Well, if she does, will you teach her how to make pies?” teased Tim.
“Of course, if her mother has neglected to do so.”
“All right Cousin Esther. I’m glad you like her. Please hand me that scrap book over on the table before you go. It is the deuce and all to be laid up and not able to wait on myself.”