"Where's the bowl?" demanded Blanche Aurora, her emotion driving her to take refuge in the practical. "Among Miss Benslow's sweet-pea vines," returned Linda, her dimple at its deepest. "He--we dropped it, and it broke." "And that Bavarian cream?" "I suppose the hens ate it up in no time," confessed the messenger. "I won't trust you again," said Blanche Aurora, with shining eyes. "Mr. King must be starved." "No, I fed him with tea and cakes. Please trust me again. Please send me back to-morrow." The little girl and the big girl exchanged a long look; and during it the possibility dawned upon the elder that this infant had designed and carried out a plan! She colored slowly, continuing to gaze into the shining eyes, but Blanche Aurora retired demurely with a word about supper, and alone in the kitchen executed a dance which threatened every stick of furniture in the place. Linda was still standing there watching the violet sea, so different from its morning dazzle of blue, when Jerry Holt's carryall approached. His voice was loud and defensive. "I telled Mis' Lindsay and Madge they could sqwut to the depot till I got back," he was saying. "Why, Jerry," said Miss Barry. "I would have let you take them home first. I thought they decided to go in the street car and walk the half-mile." "My rule's fust come, fust served," responded Captain Jerry inexorably. "I seen you git off the train fust." "But they have an invalid over at their house," pursued Miss Barry. "I know they hev. Thet Whitcomb feller seen a car comin' and he said he could make it quicker'n Molly could." The Captain's feelings had evidently been hurt in the most sensitive spot. "Says I, 'Go it then, young man;' and I made up my mind to haul you fust. Madge wanted to go with him, but her mother didn't want to sqwut alone, nor she didn't want to walk the half-mile neither, so Madge stayed." "Why, we had room for Mrs. Lindsay," said Mrs. Porter. "No"--the driver's response was firm. "Not with all them bags and bundles." He smiled a smile of satisfaction at the punishment he had meted out. "Now, I guess I'll go back and haul 'em," he added, as his passengers alighted. "They'll be tired o' sqwuttin'. They're dretful uneasy folks, anyway. What ye lookin' at, Linda?" he added, loud and cheerfully. The girl turned toward him, and came to meet the arrivals. "My future," she answered. He regarded her admiringly. He had never seen her like this. "Seems to be a bright one," he remarked, grinning. "Ye'd better git some smoked glasses if ye're goin' to look at it long. Git ap, Molly." With a grating of wheels the old carryall turned around and moved on its way. "You bet the Cape agrees with them city folks," he soliloquized. CHAPTER XXVII THE FULL MOON "I declare that was too bad of Jerry," said Miss Barry. "He's usually so"--her voice died away because she became aware of Linda, standing before her, a sort of glorified presence. "Hey?" she finished sharply.