"Of course she is," said Hattie May. "But if you take my advice----"
Eve smiled her slow smile. "Hattie May," she said, "I wouldn't turn down the chance of an adventure like that for anything."
"Oh, Eve, do you really mean it?" I cried.
"Adventure!" snorted Hattie May. "Well, if you call being buried alive an adventure----"
Eve got lazily to her feet, wrapping her orange coolie coat about her. "I'm going to write to Aunt Margery right away," she declared. "I'll tell her about the wonderful air and the simple, wholesome life at Fishers Haven. She'll eat that up!"
"Oh, Eve," I gazed rapturously up at her, "that's perfectly wonderful of you. And I do hope--oh, I do--that you won't be sorry!"
"Well, all I've got to say," declared Hattie May stuffily, "is that I wish you both a pleasant summer, but I'm mighty glad I'm not in your shoes!"
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HARBOR STREET, Fishers Haven, runs north and south. On your left, as you walk up it, you can see a line of blue across green meadows and hear the faint roar of the surf. Everything looked washed and clean; the little houses white with green shutters, set in tiny green yards. Eve said it was a picture village out of a scouring powder advertisement.
We were walking up from the bus stop. There was no railroad in Fishers Haven. It seemed good to stretch our legs after the all-day train ride. I was carrying my suitcase, which was pretty heavy, but I didn't mind. The bus driver had directed us: "Turn the corner at the drug store, it's the third house."
There it was! White like the others, with a small front yard, bordered on two sides by a neat hedge. A brick walk led up to a narrow front stoop. Our eyes were lifted anxiously to the door as we mounted the steps. It had, I could not suppress the thought, a very closed look. I lifted the knocker with some trepidation; it seemed like an intrusion to make a noise in so silent a place.
It was a feeble knock, but no sooner had it died away when we heard a window raised above us and a voice called, "Go round to the back and wipe your feet on the mat."
The grass in the side yard had been freshly mowed and smelled deliciously. "Syringas, too!" Eve inhaled rapturously. "I'm going to sleep out in that lily-of-the-valley bed," she whispered, "and pretend I'm a dryad!"