"Who's that?" said Karen.
"Somebody you don't know, I guess," said Clam.
"If 'twas all true, she wouldn't want her here," said Karen.
"It's all true," said Clam, — "'cept the last. You don't know nothin', Karen. We'll see what a time there'll be when she comes. Eat in here! —"
"She's eat in here afore now — and I guess she can again," said old Karen, in a tone of voice which spoke her by no means so discomposed as Clam's words would seem to justify.
Perhaps Elizabeth herself had a thought or two on the close quarters which would be the infallible result of Mrs. Haye's seizure of the old 'keeping-room.'
The twenty-seventh, spite of Karen's understanding of the weather, was a rainy day. The twenty-eighth, Karen and Anderese went to Pimpernel on their furniture hunting, and came back at night with the articles, selected somewhat in accordance with a limited experience of the usual contents of a cabinet-maker's warehouse. The very next day, Elizabeth set Anderese to foisting out and putting together her little old boat, the Merry-go-round. Putting together, literally; she was dropping to pieces from the effects of years and confinement. Anderese was hardly equal to the business; Elizabeth sent for better help from Mountain Spring, and watched rather eagerly the restoring of her favourite to strength and beauty. Watched and pressed the work, as if she was in a hurry. But after tightening and caulking, the boat must be repainted. Elizabeth watched the doing of that; and bargained for a pair of light oars with her friend the workman. He was an old, respectable- looking man, of no particular calling, that appeared.
"Where was this here boat built?" he inquired one day as he was at work and Elizabeth looking on.
"It was built in Mannahatta."
"A good while ago, likely?"