es of mustard and warm water at
them.

CHAPTER XVII

A BUNCH OF LETTERS

When people went down to breakfast the next morning they found a card
hanging on the office door with a half dozen new rules on it, and when
I went out to the spring-house the guests were having an indignation
meeting in the sun parlor, with the bishop in the chair, and Senator
Biggs, so wobbly he could hardly stand, making a speech.

I tried to see Mr. Pierce, but early as it was he had gone for a
walk, taking Arabella with him. So I called a conference at the
shelter-house--Miss Patty, Mr. and Mrs. Van Alstyne, Mr. and Mrs. Dick,
and myself. Mrs. Dick wasn't dressed, but she sat up on the edge of her
cot in her dressing-gown, with her feet on the soap box, and yawned. As
we didn't have enough chairs, Miss Patty jerked the soap box away and
made me sit down. Mr. Dick was getting breakfast.

We were in a tight place and we knew it.

"He is making it as hard for us as he can," Mrs. Sam declared. "The idea
of having the card-room lights put out at midnight, and the breakfast
room closed at ten! Nobody gets up at that hour."

"He was to come here every evening for orders," said Mr. Dick, measuring
ground coffee with a tablespoon, as I had showed him. "He came just
once, and as for orders--well, he gave 'em to me!"

But Miss Patty was always fair.

"I loathe him," she asserted. "I want to quarrel with him the minute I
see him. He--he is presumptuous to the point of impertinence--but he's
honest: he thinks we're all hypocrites--those that are well and those
that are sick or think they are--and he hates hypocrisy."

Everybody talked at once, then, and she listened.

"Very well," she said. "I'll amend it. We're not all hypocrites. My
motives in all this are perfectly clear--and selfish."

"You and old Pierce would make a fine team, Pat," Mrs. Dick remarked
with a yawn. "I like hypocrites myself. They're so comfy. But if you're
not above advice, Pat, you'll have Aunt Honoria break her neck or
something--anything to get father back to town. Something is going to
explode, and Oskar doesn't like to be agitated."

She curled up on the cot with that and went sound asleep. The rest of us
had coffee and talked, but there wasn't anything to do. As Mr. Sam said,
Mr. Pierce didn't want to stay, anyhow, and as likely as not if we went
to him in a body and told him he must come to the shelter-house for
instructions, and be suave and gentle when