Every one had brought skates from Fairfields, and the great expanse of blue ice—no ice is so blue as that of a mountain lake—was unmarked. Naturally skating was the very first pleasure that beckoned.
"Oh, I'm just crazy to get on skates!" cried Bobby.
"I think I'll be glad to do some skating myself," came from Libbie, who had been reading a book even before breakfast.
"What do you say to a race on skates?" came from Tommy Tucker.
"I think we had better get used to skating up here before we talk about a race," said Bob. "This ice looks tremendously hard and slippery. You won't be able to do much on your skates unless they are extra sharp."
"Oh, I had 'em sharpened."
"Don't forget to wrap up well," admonished Mrs. Canary. "Sometimes it gets pretty cold and windy."
"Not to say anything about its being cold already," answered Bobby. "My, but the wind goes right through a person up here!"
While the other seven ran off for skates and wraps, Betty nodded to Uncle Dick and then, tucking her arm through that of Ida Bellethorne, urged her to follow Mr. Gordon from the breakfast room to a little study, or "den," that was possibly Mr. Canary's own.
"Now, girls," said Uncle Dick in his quiet, pleasant way and smiling with equal kindness upon his niece and the English girl, "let us get comfortable and open our hearts to each other. I think you know, Ida, that Betty and I are immensely interested in your story and we are hungry for the details. But not altogether out of mere curiosity. We hope to give you aid in some way to make your situation better. Understand?"