Bill Lee would have sent his house and all on a suggestion that the Kinzers or Fosters were in need of it, and Dick would have carried it over for him.
As for "Gloriana," when her son came running in with his errand, she exclaimed:
"Dem lobsters? Sho! Dem aint good nuff. Dey sha'n't hab 'em. I'll jist send de ole man all 'round de bay to git some good ones. On'y dey isn't no kin' o' lobsters good nuff for some folks, dey isn't."
Dick insisted, however, and by the time he reached the back door of the old Kinzer homestead with his load, that kitchen had become very nearly as busy a place as Mrs. Miranda Morris's own, a few rods away.
"Ford," suddenly exclaimed Dab, as he finished scaling a large porgy, "what if mother should make a mistake?"
"Make a mistake? How?"
"Cook that baby! It's awful!"
"Why, its mother's there."
"Yes, but they've put her to bed, and its father too. Hey, here come the lobsters. Now, Ford—"
The rest of what he had to say was given in a whisper, and was not heard by even Annie Foster, who was just then looking prettier than ever as she busied herself around the kitchen fire. As for the Hart boys, Mrs. Foster had invited them to come into the parlor and talk with her till dinner should be ready.