"
"Oh!" said Miss Drayton. "But cousins? Those people you talk about and
call cousin--Marjorie and Patsy and Dorcas and Dick and Cornelius and
the others--they are real cousins, aren't they? Do you know how near?
First? or second? or third?"
Anne looked perplexed. "There are a lot of cousins. Yes, Miss Drayton,
they're real. I don't know what kin any of them are. I call them
'cousin' because mother did. They lived near home--five or six or ten
miles away. And they'd spend a day or week with us. And we'd go to see
them."
"Oh! Virginia cousins!" Mrs. Patterson laughed. "Some time you and I'll
go to see them and take Honey-Sweet, won't we?--Sarah, Sarah! Let's not
make any more investigations. Wait, like our old friend, Mr. Micawber,
for 'something to turn up.'"
The mails were watched with interest for the promised letter from the
New York police, but day after day passed without bringing it. The
American party lingered at the Liverpool hotel. Mrs. Patterson pleaded
each day that she needed to rest a little longer before making the
journey to Nantes. The doctor, called in to prescribe for her, looked
grave and suggested that she consult a certain famous physician in
Paris.
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