They speculated, to be sure, at odd moments, as to the identity of the
person who might have been Sophia but was Emmeline, and they wrestled a
little with the hidden meaning of Postscript Number Two. Why were they
especially bidden not to climb stone walls? And _why_ was the
Talented One "staying over" till they came?

"Why? Why? Why?" chanted Billy, "but don't anybody dare to guess why!
Who wants to know!"

"Not me!" echoed ungrammatically Laura Ann.

While they waited and speculated mildly, and packed and repacked their
things, T.O. lay on the bed in Emmeline Camp's little bedroom and winced
with pain whenever she moved her wounded foot. But she was very happy.
"Peace is in my soul, if not my _sole!_" she thought, a slave still
to the punning habit. She had never been so peaceful in her life. The
little old woman who had befriended her bustled happily in and out of
the little bedroom. She bathed and rubbed the swollen ankle, and smiled
and chattered to the girl at the other end of it. Her "lineaments" were
working a cure, surely.

It had all been decided upon. The B-Hive was to be transplanted for the
summer to the little, green-painted house trailed over with
morning-glory vines and roses. Emmeline Camp had wanted, she said, for
forty years, to go upon a long journey, to visit her brother. Here was
her chance. The small sum she had at last consented to be paid for the
use of her little house would pay her traveling expenses one way, at
least, and John would be glad enough, she said, to pay her fare home,
to get rid of her! Only she was quite able to pay it herself.