"
The gong sounded just then, and they all went down to lunch, not at all
saddened by the sight of their comrade's empty chair.
"Now, what are we going to do next?" Clover demanded as they finished the
bouillon.
"Have a meat course, I suppose," said Mitchell.
"I don't mean that; I mean, what are we going to do next with Aunt Mary?"
"She hasn't but two days more," said Jack meditatively. "Of course--even if
she was all chipper--this storm has knocked any picnic endways."
"I am not an ardent upholder of picnics, anyhow," said Mitchell. "They
require a constant sitting down on the ground and getting up from the
ground to which I find our respected aunt very far from being equal.
Burnett mentioned that we should go to the scene on a coach. That also did
not meet my approval. Going anywhere on a coach requires a constant
getting up on the coach and getting down from the coach to which I also
consider the lady unequal. The events of yesterday have left a deep
impression on my mind. I--"
"Go on and carve," interrupted Clover, "or else shove me the platter. I'm
hungry."
"So'm I," said a voice at the door. A weak voice--but one that showed
decision in its tone.
They looked up and saw Burnett, dressed in a pink silk negligee with
flowing sleeves.
"I'm ravenous," he exclaimed explanatorily. "I haven't had anything since
day before yesterday at breakfast. I didn't know I wanted anything till I
smelt it,--then I dressed and came down.
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