The Key Note. Burnham Clara Louise

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СКАЧАТЬ Veronica with troubled brow. "Why, Aunt Priscilla doesn't need two helpers like you and me."

      "Oh, there are plenty more boarders coming," said Philip. "This boat may be full of them for all we know. She is expecting people to-night. Let's look around and decide who we'll take up there with us."

      "I'll tell you one person I'd choose first of all. See that woman with her back to us with a blue motor veil around her shoulders? I noticed her just when I was pointing out that devil and the boy to you."

      "You use strong language, Miss Trueman. Couldn't you spare my feelings and call our dark friend Mephisto?"

      "Sounds too good for him. I'd like to use me-fist-o on him, I know that." Veronica giggled, and went on: "Do you see her?"

      "I do. My vision is excellent."

      "Well, she was on the train, too, and once I saw her smile at that poor shy boy and show him how to get a drink of water. We were all in a day car. Chair car crowded. You can't see her face, but she's the sweetest thing." Then with a change of voice: "Oh, wouldn't it jar you! There's fuss-tail. See that dame with the white flower in her hat, looking over the rail? I suppose she's watching to see if the fishes behave themselves. She was on the train, too, and nothing suited her from Boston to Portland. She was too hot, or she felt a draught, or she didn't like the fruit the train-boy brought, or something else was wrong, every minute."

      "We won't take her, then," said Philip.

      "I should say not. She'd sour the milk. What's the island like?"

      "Diana says it resembles Arcadia strikingly, and she ought to know."

      "But I never was in Arcadia," objected Veronica.

      "Well, it is just a green hill popping right up out of the Atlantic, with plenty of New England rocks in the fields, and drifts of daisies and wild roses for decoration, and huge rocky teeth around the shore that grind the waves into spray and spit it up flying toward the sky."

      "What kind of folks? Just folks that come in summer?"

      "Not at all. Old families. New England's aristocracy. These islands are the only place where there are no aliens, just the simon-pure descendants of Plymouth Rock. As I say aristocrats. I was born there."

      "You were?" returned Veronica curiously.

      "I were."

      "Well, I was born in Maine, in Bangor. I guess that's just about as good."

      "No, it's not as good," said Philip gravely. "Nevertheless, I forgive you."

      "Tell me more about the island."

      "Well, it has one road."

      "Only one street?"

      "No, no street. Just one road which has its source in a green field on the south and loses itself in the beach on the north after it has passed the by-path that leads to the haunted farm."

      "Oh, go away!" scoffed Veronica.

      "I can't. The walking won't be good for another hour."

      "Who lives at the farm?"

      "The ha'nts."

      "Nobody else?"

      "No, it isn't likely. It's at the head of Brook Cove where the pirates used to come in at a day when it was laughable to think that passenger boats would ever touch at this island."

      Veronica's eyes grew rounder than before.

      "Do you suppose there's gold packed in around there if people could only find it?"

      "I don't, but a great many people thought there might be. It is much more fun to hunt for pirate gold than to go fishing in squally weather, and it has been hunted for, faithfully."

      "And not any found?" said Veronica sympathetically.

      "That's the mournful fact."

      "But who were the farmers, and why did they stop farming? Was it the ghosts?"

      "No, I think it was the rocks. It was found more profitable to farm the sea. You know abandoned farms are fashionable in New England, anyway, so the ghosts have a rather swell residence at the old Dexter place. I spent the first eight years of my life on the island. Then it was an undiscovered Arcadia. Now – why, you will go up to The Wayside Inn in a motor – that is, if I can get hold of Bill Lindsay before somebody else grabs him. Lots of people know a good thing when they see it, and lots of people have seen the island."

      The wharf was full of people to welcome the little steamer as it drew in, and there was a grand rush of passengers for the coveted motor. It seemed to Veronica that she heard her aunt's name on many lips, and Philip found himself feeling responsible for the trunk checks of everybody who was seeking Miss Burridge.

      The upshot of it all was, by the time he had safeguarded the baggage of the arrivals and sent them on their way, he and Veronica were left to climb the road and pursue the walk toward home.

      "Didn't that old hawk-nose say he was going to Aunt Priscilla's?"

      "It's a very good-looking nose," remarked Philip. "But so far as I could see, all your friends of the train were bound for the same place."

      "He'll be lucky," said Veronica viciously, "if I don't put Paris green in his tea. Oh, what a beautiful view of the sea!" she exclaimed as they reached the summit of the hill.

      They had not walked far when Bill Lindsay's Ford came whirring back over the much-traveled road, and he turned around for them.

      "After all," said Philip, as the machine started back up the island, "your lady of the blue veil should set off the affliction of Mephisto's presence."

      "Did she come?" asked Veronica delightedly.

      "Yes, didn't you see me pack her in with the woman whose halo won't fit? The dull boy sat between them."

      "Well," said Veronica, "then there's no great loss without some small gain."

      When the motor reached the Inn, Miss Priscilla was pleased with the way Veronica dropped her hat and jacket in the kitchen, and after drinking the one cup of cocoa upon which her aunt insisted, was ready to help her carry in the late supper for the new guests with whom Philip sat down at table. Veronica, coming and going, tried to make out his status in the house.

      "That Mr. Barrison you sent to meet me," she said to her aunt when the meal was over, "told me he was your man-of-all-work. He don't act much like it."

      "Law, child," Miss Priscilla laughed. "He has been lately. Phil's a dear boy when he isn't a wretch, and he's helped me out ever since I came. I won't ever forget how good he's been. Now, let's sit down and let me see you eat this fresh omelette and tell me all about yourself. I see you're just like your mother, handy and capable, and let me tell you, it takes a big load off me, Veronica."

      Just as she finished speaking, Diana Wilbur came in from the twilight stroll she had been taking.

      "Miss Wilbur, this is my little niece, Veronica Trueman," said Miss Priscilla. "She has come to help me, and high time, too. Four people came to-night and there will be more to-morrow."

      Diana approached the newcomer and looked down upon her kindly after taking her offered hand.

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