exclaiming:

"Oh, Mr. Ferry, how kind of you! What splendid strawberries! Out of
your own garden? You must be an accomplished gardener." It was
Josephine's voice.

"Only a novice, but I'm rather proud of these. I hope the first night was
a comfortable one?"

"Perfect! Our friends are still sleeping--though they won't be long if I
shout like this."

"I've been up so long I didn't realize it was barely seven o'clock. But
I wanted to make sure of your having these for the first camp breakfast.
I'll disappear now, and perhaps I can venture to appear again, later in
the day, with my mother. We want to offer our services as neighbours from
whom anything, from axes to apricots, can be borrowed."

Max could hear Josephine's low laugh echoed by a small ecstatic chuckle
from the other side of the canvas wall which separated his head from
Sally's. Her whisper came from very near his ear:

"Max, are you awake? Did you hear what Jo said? We're to have fresh
strawberries, right out of a garden, for breakfast. Aren't you glad
you're alive?"

Where was his ill-temper? He felt for it, in the recesses of his inner
man, and couldn't seem to find it. He had had nine long hours of
refreshing sleep, in the purest air to be found in the country, and had
wakened with a sense of refreshment and well-being such as he had not