"Ze oldest? Yes, but there be some vich are mos' rare of dose later
ones, too. But"--

"The little feather head!" laughed madame out of her thought, oblivious
of what had gone before, "but _jolie_ and bright"--

"Zat so bright on, it ees no feddar-head, Felicie; you mistake. That was
the rusty, dull"--

"Rusty! Dull! That so brilliant bird of a child! what mean you, Leon?"

"Child? Who say child?" dazedly.

"Oh, stop, stop!" interposed their nephew, raising both hands, "don't
have a family jar over nothing. Uncle's on geology, and auntie on
babies; don't you see?" and the discussion ended good-naturedly in a
laugh all around.

They came every day after that, during their lengthened stay of a week,
and often the professor would press Sara into service to direct him in
his search for treasures, while madame stayed with Molly and baby; and
Morton took many a delightful sail in the yacht with Mr. Glendenning
after bluefish or salmon.

Those were happy, plentiful days in the little cottage, for fresh fish
or game was almost constantly on their table, while the overplus, sold
to their richer friends, kept baby in milk, and all in necessary
supplies.

Besides, madame's quick eyes soon penetrated into the real poverty