“But the Bursons live mighty poorly, Auntie.”
“Because they have to, my child. If the Major went there Mrs. Burson could spend more on her table. She has one of the best cooks in the town.” Holly made no reply and presently Miss India went on: “Have you noticed,” she asked, “how Mr. Winthrop has improved since he came here, Holly?”
“Yes, Auntie. He says himself that he’s much better. He was wondering the other day whether it wasn’t time to stop taking the medicine.”
“The tonic? Sakes, no! Why, that’s what’s holding him up, my dear, although he doesn’t realize it. I reckon he’s a much sicker man than he thinks he is.”
“He appears to be able to get around fairly well,” commented Holly. “He’s always off somewhere nowadays.”
“Yes, and I’m afraid he’s overdoing it, my dear. I must speak to him about it.”
“Then we mightn’t get any more quail or doves, Auntie.”
“It would be just as well. Why he wants to kill the poor defenceless creatures I don’t see.”
“But you know you love doves, Auntie,” laughed Holly.