"S-s-sh!" says Vee, snickerin'.
That's what it was, though—cooin'. Seems to be her specialty, too, for she goes bobbin' and bowin' around the room, makin' noises like a turtle-dove on a top branch.
"O-o-o-oh, Mr. Ellins!" says she. "So glad to know you. O-o-o-oh!" And she smiles and ducks her head and beams gushy on everyone in sight.
"How long can she keep that up on a stretch?" I asks Vee.
"Indefinitely," says Vee. "It's quite natural, you know. For, really, she's an old dear, but a bit tiresome. If she goes she will knit or crochet the whole blessed time, no matter what happens. She crocheted all over Europe with us one summer. Fancy facing the Matterhorn and counting stitches! But Mrs. Mumford did it."
"Then she'll be a great help on their cruise, I don't think," says I.
"Oh, but she will," says Vee. "You see, she always agrees with everything Auntie says, and very few can do that. Well, here comes Professor Leonidas Barr, too. You might know Auntie would want him along."
"What's he luggin' his hat in for?" says I. "Don't he trust Helma?"
"It's because he's afraid he'll walk out without it," says Vee. "But he'll do that, anyway. And he leaves it in the weirdest places—under the piano, in a vase, or back of the fire screen. We always have a grand hunt for the Professor's hat when he starts to go. But it's no wonder he forgets such trifles, when he knows so much about fishes. He writes books about 'em."
"He looks it," says I. "And, last but not least, we have arriving Captain Rupert Killam, who started all this trouble. My, but he takes life serious, don't he?"