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Margaret glanced at her wrist watch. “It’s three now. In half an hour we must start back for the main road. I certainly wouldn’t want to be here after dark, and the twilight comes so early these days.”

“I can just imagine how lovely it must have been here once upon a time,” Virginia said. “That old summer house is covered with rose vines. Can’t you picture how pretty it will be in June?”

“Let’s all come over and see it then, shall we?” Sally suggested.

Virginia, who had never before seen a rustic garden house, was much interested and she stopped at the open door. Megsy, Sally and Babs were with her. A rustic table with four chairs made of small trees with the bark on were within.

“Isn’t it fun to think pictures?” the romantic Sally remarked. “Can’t you fancy the Lady Burgess, her daughters and friends all dressed in the pretty styles of long ago as they sat about that table drinking tea?”

Margaret nodded. “I can see them, too,” she agreed, “and there’s a gentleman wearing a bottle green broadcloth coat with gilt buttons and knee breeches. At least that was what my grandfather wore. He is standing up behind the ladies and passing the tea.”