"Growin' up with the country," interrupted Sarah Simpson, tying a bouquet of flowers she had brought for Celia with a narrow ribbon of delicate blue.
"Yes," admitted Celia, "growing up with the country."
Sarah handed her the flowers.
"It's my opinion," concluded she, "that it's the fools, beggin' youah pahdon, whut's goin' out theah to grow up with the country, and the wise peepul whut's stayin' at home and advisin' of 'em to go."
Celia shuddered.
"I'm ha'f afraid to go," she said. "They say the wind blows all the time out theah. They say it nevah quits blowin'."
"'Taint laik as if you wus goin' to be alone out theah," comforted Mansy Storm, who was busy putting away a little cake she had made with her own hands for Celia's lunch basket. "Youah husband will be out theah."
She closed the lid down and raised her head brightly.
"Whut diffunce does it maik?" she asked, "how ha'd the wind blows if you've got youah husband?"
Lucy Brown flipped a speck of dust from the hem of Celia's travelling dress.