Miss Webster noted the clean kitchen, the beds all tidily made. Then, because it was such a lovely day, they gave her a tour of the meadow, the orchard, and down the private path to their own little beach.

“This is so charming,” said Miss Webster when they were done and standing by the fence looking across the property. “I’ve always wanted a farm like this but this one on the ocean, it’s enchanting. It kind of has everything, doesn’t it? I bet when your great-aunt bought it way back when, she got it for a song. I doubt I’ll ever be able to afford such a place. Lucky girls. Lucky, lucky girls.” Then she caught herself and added, “In some respects. All right!” She clapped her hands together as if a decision had been made. “I’m sure there will be bumps along the way and anticipating what they will be will probably keep me up nights but I guess you’re good for now. The bus will pick you up tomorrow morning at eight-thirty at the end of Farhill Road. I’m going to give you my cell phone number. Phone me if you need something or get in trouble.”

They walked as far as the house with her and went onto the porch, waving and thanking her again.

“Never mind that. Just don’t forget to pack the lunches,” she said over her shoulder, walking back to her car, and the girls heard her muttering to herself, “I’m going to regret this. I know I’m going to regret this. Stupid decision. Stupid, stupid decision.”

“She’s not stupid,” said Charlie as they sat on the porch steps watching Miss Webster’s car drive away.

“No,” said Fiona musingly. “I think she’s very brave.”

“I think she learned to be brave living on her own at our age,” said Marlin. “And now she can be when she has to be.”

“Well, that was a bullet dodged. How shall we celebrate?” asked Fiona.

“Cake,” said Marlin. “Mrs. Weatherspoon has apparently infected me with the need for cake on all occasions.”

“We don’t have any cake,” said Natasha.

“No, but that doesn’t have to be a permanent condition,” said Marlin. “I’m going to see what Aunt Martha has in her cupboards.”

“Our cupboards now,” said Fiona absently.

“Right. Our cupboards. And make a cake from it.”

“We don’t have a cookbook,” Natasha reminded her. She had already explored Aunt Martha’s library the day before when they’d needed a bread recipe and knew that there were shelves and shelves of books but not a single cookbook.

“I’ll check the internet again,” said Marlin. “I can find all the recipes I need there. And that reminds me, Fiona, won’t things like the internet get shut down if we or rather Aunt Martha stops paying her bills?”

“Well, she’s only been dead four days,” said Fiona. “When we go into town to speak to her lawyer I think we can ask about that as well.”

“Without somehow giving away that we will be paying the bills ourselves,” said Marlin.