“Oh, Cousin Lizzie, I think you are just splendid!” exclaimed Helen.
And, indeed, Miss Elizabeth Somerville was splendid in her way. She was offering herself on the altar of aunthood. It was a real sacrifice for her to consent to this wild plan of going to the mountains. She hated snakes, and while she did not confess that she hated Nature, she certainly had no love for her. Her summer outings had meant, heretofore, comfortable hotels at the springs or seashore, where bridge was the rule and Nature the exception. The promise of being allowed to sleep in the cabin and even eat in it was not any great inducement. A log cabin, built and lived in and finally, no doubt, died in, by a sick Englishman was not very pleasant to contemplate. Miss Lizzie was very old-fashioned in all her ideas with the exception of germs, and she was very up-to-date as to them. No modern scientist knew more about them or believed in them more implicitly. Oh, well! She could take along plenty of C. N. and sulphur candles and crude carbolic. That would kill the germs. She would find out the latest cure for snake bite, and with a pack of cards for solitaire perhaps she could drag out an existence until Robert Carter and Annette got home from this mad trip. All she hoped was that nobody would wake her up to see the sun rise and that she would not be called on to admire the moon every time there was a moon.
“I hope we can get the daily paper,” she moaned feebly. “I hate to go too far from the daily paper.”
“We’ll get it if I have to build a flying machine and fly to Richmond for it,” declared Lewis.
“The place is not half a mile from the post office,” said Helen. “At least, that is the way it looks from the train. When can we get started? I don’t think it is worth while to go back to school any more. We can all of us just stop.”
“Oh, Helen, of course we can’t! Douglas is going to graduate, and Lucy and I have our exams next week. What would Father say at our giving up right now? You can quiturate all you’ve a mind to, but I intend to go on and graduate and go to college like Douglas,” said Nan.
“I am afraid I’ll have to give up college, but I am going to take my Bryn Mawr examinations just the same because I want Father to know I can stand them.” Douglas hoped sincerely that the tear she felt gathering would evaporate before it dropped.
“Give up college! Why, Douglas Carter, I don’t see what you mean. You have been full of it all winter,” exclaimed Helen.
“But Helen, you know perfectly well there is no more money.”
“Oh, I keep on forgetting!”