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“Who wouldn’t be a senior girl at Greycliff Farm?” inquired Eloise of the squirrels or birds or anybody who happened to be listening, as they hurried to the little summer house.

“Really, this is the best part of the place for us,” said Hilary. “There isn’t a better beach anywhere along than this, and about two or three o’clock we can have a fine swim. Have you noticed the swings and seats in that grassy spot under those old trees?—over in that direction. I’m going to get out my knitting as soon as lunch is over and go there to rest my bones.”

“I didn’t bring my knitting,” said Betty, “but have a good story, one that I bought to read on the train, but didn’t read it there, nor have I had any time since. If you like I can read aloud a while. I move that we offer resolutions of thanks to whoever got up all these things.”

“Miss Randolph thought it up, I imagine,” said Lilian. “She hasn’t liked the Island very well, though I suppose they will go there sometimes still.”

“The Island is very romantic,” said Helen Paget, in her pretty Southern way. “There is the cave, you know, and the rocks, and the place where the water rushes through. I’m glad we had it.”