Where is the Wreck Island House, then?" Eleanor put in.

"_On_ Wreck Island, of course."

"And where is that?"

"In Long Island Sound, about a mile off 'n the Connecticut shore.
Pennymint Centre's the nearest village."

"That means nothing to me," said the girl. "How far are we from New
York?"

"I couldn't rightly say--ain't never been there. But your pa says--I
heard him tell Eph once--he can make the run in his autymobile in an
hour and a half. That's from Pennymint Centre, of course."

Eleanor pressed her hands to her temples, temporarily dazed by the
information. "Island," she repeated--"a mile from shore--New York an
hour and a half away ...!"

"Good, comfortable, tight little island," resumed Mrs. Clover, pleased,
it seemed, with the sound of her own voice; "you'll like it when you
come to get acquainted. Just the very place for a girl with your
trouble."

"My trouble? What do you know about that?"

"Your pa told me, of course. Nervous prostration's what he called
it--says as you need a rest with quiet and nothing to disturb
you--plenty of good food and sea air--"

"Oh stop!" Eleanor begged frantically.

"Land!" said the woman in a kindly tone--"I might 've known I'd get on
your poor nerves, talking all the time. But I can't seem to help it,
living here all alone like I do with nobody but Eph most of the time....
There!" she added with satisfaction, spearing the last rasher of bacon
from the frying-pan and dropping it on a plate--"now your breakfast's
ready. Draw up a chair and eat hearty."

She put the plate on the red table-cloth, flanked it with dishes
containing soft-boiled eggs, bread and butter and a pot of coffee of
delicious savour, and waved one muscular arm over it all with the
gesture of a benevolent sorceress. "Set to while it's hot, my dear, and
don't you be afraid; good food never hurt nobody."

Momentarily, Eleanor entertained the thought of mutinous refusal to eat,
by way of lending emphasis to her indignation; but hunger overcame the
attractions of this dubious expedient; and besides, if she were to
accomplish anything toward regaining her freedom, if it were no more
than to register a violent protest, she would need strength; and already
she was weak for want of food.

So she took her place and ate--ate ravenously, enjoying every
mouthful--even though her mind was obsessed with doubts and fears and
burning anger.

"You are the caretaker here?" she asked as soon as her hunger w