But when he went to bed that night he once more gave vent to his
feelings on the subject of his sister's guest.
"Jeff," said he, "if a girl has absolutely no brains in her head, what
do you suppose occupies the cavity?"
"Give it up," returned Jeff, sleepily.
"I think it must be a substance of about the consistency of a
marshmallow," mused Just, thoughtfully. "I detest marshmallows," he
added, with some resentment.
"Oh, go to bed!" murmured Jeff.
* * * * *
CHAPTER VII
"Nobody at home, eh? Well, I'm sorry. I wanted to see somebody very
much. And there's no one at the other house, either. I'm away so much I
see altogether too little of these people, Mrs. Fields." Thus spoke
Doctor Forester of the city--the old friend and family counselor of both
Birches and Churchills.
His son Frederic--who had managed since his return from study abroad to
see much more of the Birch household than his father--was watching the
conversation on the door-step from his position in the driver's place on
Doctor Forester's big automobile, which stood at the curb.
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