“Mr. Shane!” Denny interrupted. “Say, if you call me that I’ll think I’m reading me own death notice in the Beacon.”
Cora laughed at this, and agreed he should be “Uncle Denny” to her as well as to the others of the neighborhood.
“But it was splendid of you to have the boat all ready for us when we came. I did not suppose Freda had a chance to get down to it before we loomed up.”
“You don’t know the risin’ hour for us folks at the Bay,” returned Denny, with a sly wink. “Freddie couldn’t stay abed when the sun is beckonin’ on the waves; could you, Freddie?”
“Oh, the early Summer mornings are beautiful,” replied Freda, “and I am sorry I had to lose so many of them. Who’s that? The girls, looking for us! There’s Bess puffing, and Belle—fluffing. I do think they are the most attractive pair.”
Cora smiled, for her own devotion to the Robinson twins was only paralleled by the twins’ devotion to Cora.
“Cora! Freda!” called youthful voices from the path. “Where are you?”
“Come in—do!” answered Denny, who always had a spare chair for visitors.
“Oh, we can’t,” replied Belle. “Cora, the boys are threatening to take out the Chelton. And oh! I’m completely out of breath. It’s dreadful to try to hurry through the sand.”
“Indeed they shall not take the Chelton out without my permission,” Cora declared. “When we make our initial trip I intend to command it. For one thing, Uncle Denny is to come along; for another—well, that’s to be a little surprise. This afternoon at two exactly—will you come, Uncle Denny?”