I never wanted nothin' so bad in all my life afore."
Janice stood by the bed, her face full of regret that Aunt Mary had known
any aching void.
Aunt Mary grew yet more earnest.
"Granite," she said, "you mind what I tell you. That ought to be
advertised. I sh'd think you could patent it. Folks ought to know about
it."
Then she laid herself out in bed. "My heavens alive!" she sighed sweetly,
"there's nothin' like home. Not anywhere--not nowhere!"
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - A REPOSEFUL INTERVAL
The next date upon the little gold and ivory memorandum card which hung
beside Aunt Mary's watch was that set for Burnett's picnic, but its
dawning found both host and guest too much attached to their beds to
desire any fetes champetre just then.
Burnett was in that very weak state which follows in the immediate wake of
only too many yachts,--and Aunt Mary was sleeping one of her long drawn out
and utterly restorative sleeps.
Jack went in and looked at her.
"It did storm awfully," he said to Janice, who was sitting by the window.
The maid just smiled, nodded, and laid her finger on her lip. She never
encouraged conversation when her charge was reposing.
Jack went softly out and turned his steps toward the room of the other
wreck.
"Well, how are stocks to-day?" he asked cheerfully on entering.
Burnett was stretched out pillowless and looked black under his hollow
eyes. But he appeared to be on the road to recovery.
"Jack," he said seriously, "what in thunder makes me always so ready to go
on the water? I should think after a while I'd learn a thing or two.
Pages:
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155