"Mrs. Porter!" exclaimed Miss Barry, letting her hand be captured in the two outstretched ones. "Do excuse me!" Her face beamed welcome. She had liked Linda's voice teacher, and when Belinda Barry liked a person it was once and forever. "Come right into the house this minute," she said cordially. "I'm ashamed o' myself!" CHAPTER VI THE SHINGLED COTTAGE Miss Barry's hard, kindly hands helped remove the visitor's hat and veil, although Mrs. Porter repeated her declaration that she had come only for a call. "You're going to stay to dinner with me," returned the hostess. "I always do have enough for two." Her lips, which had returned to their rather grim line, twitched a little as she spoke, and Maud Porter glanced about the living-room with its old-fashioned furniture and rag rugs. Beyond was the dining-room, divided from this only by an imaginary line, and the table stood ready set for one. "You live here all alone?" asked the visitor. "Not half as alone as I'd like to be. I don't mind the fish and the barnacles, but it's the folks coming to the back door. Sit right down, Mrs. Porter." "Don't let me detain you if you were getting dinner." The caller laughed. "How about these folks that come to the _front_ door; the things Captain Holt leaves on the step?" "Oh, I'm in no hurry. I'm going to sit right down with you now. Things are stewing out there. There's nothing to hurt." Miss Barry suited the action to the word. Mrs. Porter regarded her with curious interest as she sank into a rocker with chintz cushions. The hostess's narrow face, usually as devoid of expression as a mask, was now lighted by pleasure. "How comes it you didn't let a body know?" she asked. "I was going to be so wonderfully independent! I was going to come to the Cape, and find a place to live, and then some day saunter over to your cottage bareheaded, and surprise you." "And all you accomplished was the surprise, eh?" "That's it, and it's entirely your fault. I was driving about with Captain Holt to see the lay of the land, when suddenly the rocks and the water, and this cottage perched on them like a gull's nest, did something to me. I don't know what. I think it gave me a brain-storm. When he told me you lived here, what could I do but rush in to congratulate you?" Miss Barry's lips twitched again. "I ain't any gull, I will maintain that, but--it is sightly, ain't it?" "Wonderful. Nothing less than wonderful. But in a storm, Miss Barry?" "Yes, the windows are all spray then, and the waves try to swallow me up, and I can't hear myself think, but--" "Yes,"--Mrs. Porter nodded as the other hesitated,--"I understand that 'but.'" "How'd you leave my brother?" "Very tired." "That so? Wouldn't you think he'd come up here and rock in the cradle o' the deep awhile? You write him about that hammock out there." Mrs. Porter looked out through the open window toward the end of the porch, where a hammock hung. "The doctor says Colorado," she replied.