"Then you should at least have camped out for a week or so. That is
a genuine Canadian experience," said the lady with a frankness which
completely restored the equanimity of the Englishman.

"But how do you live?" he went on in a puzzled manner that caused
the lady with the red-brown hair, still all hanging about her, much
amusement.

"O, capitally! Upon fish and eggs, and gooseberry tarts, and
home-made bread and French coffee. Just what you would get in town,
and much better than you get at the hotel."

"O, that would be easy!" the gentleman groaned. "I eat my meals in a
pitch-dark room, in deadly fear and horror of the regiments of flies
that swarm in and settle on everything the minute one raises the
green paper blinds."

The lady nodded. "I know. We tried it for two or three seasons, but
we could not endure it; the whole thing, whitewash and all, is so
trying, isn't it? So we bought this lovely island and bring our tent
here and live _so_ comfortably." The gentleman did not reply at once.
He was thinking that it was his place to say "Good morning," and go,
although he would much have liked to remain a little longer. He
hazarded the remark:

"Now, for instance, what are you going to breakfast on presently?"

The lady laughed lightly and shook her red brown hair.