"It is--very mysterious," returned the latter, laughing. Miss Lacey gave a quick nod. "I'm going to ask Judge Trent what it means when he comes," she declared. "Fie, Miss Martha! How indiscreet!" laughed Edna. "Can't he have a little undisturbed flirtation with his best girl?" She was surprised at the suddenness and depth of Miss Lacey's blush, but the little woman bustled out to the dining-room and shortly announced dinner. It seemed to Sylvia that she had never been so hungry and that food had never tasted so delicious. She remarked upon it somewhat apologetically, and Edna laughed at her. "My dear girl, it's the way of the place," she said. "Of course we eat nothing prosaic here. These potatoes grew at the Mill Farm, these lobsters were swimming this morning. This lamb, I'm afraid, was skipping around only a few days ago on Beacon Island. This salad grew just over the fence from that daisy field we passed through this morning,--and so on." For dessert they had a deep huckleberry pie. "How's this, Sylvia, eh?" asked Thinkright, after the first juicy mouthful. "I thought Mrs. Lem was pretty good at it." "It is perfect," returned Sylvia, "but how we shall look!" she added. "Don't worry," said Edna. "I always keep a box of tooth-brushes upstairs for wanderers trapped just as you are. Of course it is a good pie. These berries were growing on the shore of Merriconeag Sound yesterday, and Miss Lacey and I picked them ourselves. Weren't we a happy, disreputable pair, Miss Martha? Our dresses were stained, our fingers were a sight, and our lips,--I'll draw a veil! We both would have done so then if we'd had any." Sylvia listened, smiling. In her preoccupation she let her fork veer away from her plate. "Oh!" she ejaculated regretfully. "See what I've done!" A drop of the rich dark juice had fallen on the spotless cloth and seemed to spread mischievously. "Dear, I meant to be so careful." "Not a bit of harm," returned Edna. "That is a feature of the huckleberry season. The stain vanishes under hot water." Sylvia's eyes clung to the spot. A thought had suddenly come to her like a lightning flash. She knew vaguely that her hostess was saying pleasant things, but she could not follow them. "Eat your pie, Sylvia," said her aunt. "We always have a second piece. Jenny's feelings would be hurt if we didn't." The girl commenced eating again, mechanically. "You picked these yourselves?" she said. "They grow for anybody to pick?" "Yes, indeed," replied Edna. "I enjoy it. I think Miss Lacey considers a berrying expedition a good deal of a pleasure exertion." "They always ripen first in such shut-in fields," objected Miss Lacey. Edna laughed. "The kind Mrs. Lem would call hot as Topet." "Oh, I'd love to pick them," said Sylvia. "Do they grow around the Mill Farm, Thinkright?" Her eyes were shining as she asked her question. "No. Nowhere around us,--that is, nowhere near. I've often wondered at it."