"Pretty good guess, I call it." Miss Lambkin laughed. "I thought he must be pretty sick, or Patty wouldn't be out of the house as soon as ever breakfast was over and not turn up again until dinner-time. Then, as like as not, she'd be gone the whole afternoon. I hear he's got pneumonia."
Mrs. Upjohn nodded again.
"And I hear," Letty continued, "that he got it getting chilled and wet the night of the fire. 'T was an awful cold night, and he would stay around the house and try to tell the firemen what they sh'd do. Of course, they couldn't help squirting on him some."
"I hope," said Mrs. Upjohn, "that they didn't mean to."
"I hope not," Miss Lambkin returned. "I sh'd think the ones that did it would have it on their consciences if they did. They tell me that Sally Ladue discovered the fire. She and that Doctor Sanderson have been at the Mortons' ever since and, if you can believe all you hear, neither of 'em likes it any too well. Mrs. Morton's nice to her—she can be as nice as nice to them that she likes, though you wouldn't always think it—but Everett's the trouble."
It was contrary to Mrs. Upjohn's principles to look surprised at any piece of information—and as if she had not heard it before. She gave a little laugh.
"A good many girls," she remarked, "would give their eyes to be at the Mortons' for two weeks."
"I guess that's what's the trouble with Everett," said Miss Lambkin pointedly. "Too much girl; and I guess he isn't any too particular about the kind either."
Mrs. Upjohn was curious. To be sure, she was always curious, which was a fact that she flattered herself she concealed very neatly. Other people were not of the same opinion.
"Why, Letty?" she asked frankly. She seldom allowed her curiosity to be so evident. "I've never heard of his being seen with any girls that he ought not to be with. Have you?"