Katherine sat up in her chair, and her eyes opened wide.
“What’s the matter with Bar Harbor?” she asked.
“You can answer that question better than I, Kate. The Kempt family are not visitors, but live here all the year round. What do you think is the matter with Bar Harbor?”
“I confess it’s a little dull in the winter time, and in all seasons it is situated a considerable distance from New York. Where do you intend to go, Dorothy?”
“That will depend largely on where my friend Kate advises me to go, because I shall take her with me if she will come.”
“Companion, lady’s-maid, parlor maid, maid-of-all-work, cook, governess, typewriter-girl--which have I to be? Shall I get one afternoon a week off, and may my young man come and see me, if I happen to secure one, and, extremely important, what are the wages?”
“You shall fix your own salary, Kate, and my lawyer men will arrange that the chosen sum is settled upon you so that if we fall out we can quarrel on equal terms.”
“Oh, I see, it’s an adopted daughter I am to be, then?”
“Do you think I am going to take advantage of my friendship with an heiress, and so pension myself off?”
“It is I who am taking the advantage,” said Dorothy, “and I beg you to take compassion, rather than advantage, upon a lone creature who has no kith or kin in the world.”
“Of course I do. Should I propose it if I didn’t?”
“Well, this is the first proposal I’ve ever had, and I believe it is customary to say on those occasions that it is so sudden, or so unexpected, and time is required for consideration.”
“How soon can you make up your mind, Kate?”
“Oh, my mind’s already made up. I’m going to jump at your offer, but I think it more ladylike to pretend a mild reluctance. What are you going to do, Dorothy?”
“I don’t know. I’ve settled on only one thing. I intend to build a little stone and tile church, very quaint and old-fashioned, if I get the right kind of architect to draw a plan for it, and this church is to be situated in Haverstock.”
“It is a village near the Hudson River, on the plain that stretches toward the Catskills.”
“It was there you lived with your father, was it not?”
“Yes, and my church is to be called the Dr. Amhurst Memorial Church.”
“And do you propose to live at Haverstock?”