“We’re some distance from the town,” Aunt Bessie remarked, as they saw the roofs of the bungalows and cottages beginning to appear; “but this is one reason Betty and I liked it. There’s a jitney that runs every half hour anyway.”
Sunny was watching the waves that ran up the beach almost to the edge of the road, but never quite; always they seemed to think better of it and go rushing back into the sea again.
“I see shells,” he remarked, standing up to see better. “An’ pebbles and fringe—”
“Seaweed,” corrected Mrs. Horton. “Oh, you’ll have the best of times, dear. And you’ll have Daddy to play with all day to-morrow. Think of that!”
Mr. Horton looked back at Aunt Bessie.
“How does one know one’s new house?” he inquired seriously.
Aunt Bessie stared, then laughed.
“I haven’t the slightest idea how it looks,” she confessed. “I’ve seen it only once, and Betty never has. I think it was shingled and painted green.”
“There’s the ice-man,” said Sunny placidly. “He’s going in our house.”
And so it proved. Harriet had given the ice-man the address, and he had found the house without a bit of trouble. Aunt Bessie’s key fitted the front door, and that was another sign they had found the right house. And before they had taken off their hats, the wife of the owner came in to explain that she had had the windows up all day so that the place would be cool and airy for them; and then they knew they had the right bungalow.