“Maybe she was tired of waiting for a new one,” suggested Norton, who was usually flippant. “I’ve heard that ladies can get new faces at these–er–beauty parlors.”
“It’s a pity there isn’t some sort of a parlor where one can get–manners!” murmured Eline. She seemed to have taken a distinct dislike to the new young man.
Belle and Bess, who had overheard the remark, looked rather askance at Cora’s relative, but said nothing.
“Now then!” exclaimed the young hostess, “since you have all gotten rid of as much of the effects of the fire as possible, we’ll go over the main points to be sure nothing will go wrong. Oh, that’s something I almost forgot. I must send mamma our address.”
Mrs. Kimball had gone to Europe for a summer tour, leaving her daughter and son at home. When they went to the Cove the house would be in charge of a care-taker. Cora had not fully determined on her vacation plans when her mother went away, and now there was necessity for forwarding the address.
“I’ll attend to that the last thing to-night,” Cora went on. “I’ll send mother a long letter, and write again as soon as we get settled at the Cove.”
“If we ever do get settled,” murmured Walter. “Say, boys, am I any less–hammy?” and he sniffed at his coat about which still lingered the smell of gasoline.
“You’re of the ham–saltiest–or hammiest!” declared Ed.
“You may break, you may burn the garage if you will
The taste of the gasoline stays with it still.”