Freda gave Cora a meaning glance. “Girls ought to think of the housework,” she laughed with a wink at Belle. “Just look at the linen chest.”
She opened a small box and exhibited a goodly supply of suitable linen. No table cloths; just small pieces, doilies and plenty of neat, pretty towels.
“Let’s board here,” suggested Walter. “Our food was really rude this morning.”
“Do we go out for a sail?” asked Ed, attempting to turn on the gasoline.
“Oh, no indeed!” Cora answered quickly. “Not a box is unpacked in our place yet, and perhaps, if you boys are all to rights, you wouldn’t mind giving us a hand.”
“Oh, of course we’re all to rights,” replied Jack. “I had a bolt of mosquito netting for my blanket last night and Wallie’s bathrobe for my pillow.”
“And I made friends with a pretty, little, soft ground mole, Jack,” put in Ed, “and if the rest of our boxes do not arrive and unpack themselves in time for your slumber this eve, that mole has agreed to cuddle up under your left ear. I believe you sleep on your left.”
“Thanks,” Jack said, “but I see no reason why mere household truck should keep us from a cruise. I am aching to try the Chelton, Cora.”
Cora and Freda were talking in whispers in the other end of the boat. It was no “mere household truck” surely that brought the serious expression to their faces.
“It isn’t far,” Freda was heard to say, “and he promised to wait for us this morning.”