“I would not trouble you, Doctor, but sometime, if you happened to be passing.”
“Yes,” he answered, “when I happen to be passing. I shall not forget.”
“They might be interesting, if not of actual service. I am familiar with much that has been written of foreign lands. We have Marco Polo’s Adventures in our library.”
The Doctor coughed into his handkerchief. “The world has changed, dear madam, since Marco Polo travelled.”
“Yes,” she sighed, “it is always changing, and we older ones are left far behind.”
“Oh, nonsense!” exclaimed Lynn. “I’ll tell you what, Aunt Peace, you’re well up at the head of the procession. You’re no farther behind than the drum-major is.”
“The drum-major, my dear? I do not understand. Is he a military gentleman?”
“He’s the boss of the whole shooting match,” explained Lynn, inelegantly. “He wears a bear-skin bonnet and tickles the music out of the band. If it weren’t for him, the whole show would go up in smoke.”
“Lynn!” said Margaret, reprovingly. “What language! Aunt Peace cannot understand you!”
“I’ll bet on Aunt Peace,” remarked Lynn, sagely.