She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the
coughing and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin
partition.
She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep
by the morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other
kind of fowl.
Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and
declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds.
They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the
beach only in time to turn round to come back for their dinner,
which was appointed at noon.
Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. "Such a straight road, and the
beach such a safe place to turn round upon!"
Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to
the station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were
probably left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested,
might have been switched off upon one of the White Mountain
trains. There was no use to write any letters, as there was no way
to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now almost hoped the Sylvesters
would not come, for what should she do if the trunks did not come
and all her new dresses ? On her way over to the beach she had
been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and
cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their
time was spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she
would prefer that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses
and the trunks did.
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