Hazel Gray opened her eyes languidly, murmuring: "I shall be all right, thank you! Just drive to the hotel——"
"What hotel?" asked Ruth, laughing.
"In Cheslow. I don't know the name of it," whispered Hazel Gray. "Is there more than one?"
"There is; but you'll not go all the way to Cheslow in your condition," declared Ruth. "We're taking you to the Red Mill. Now! no objections, please. Hurry up, Tommy."
"But I am all wet," protested the girl.
"I should say you were," gasped Helen.
"Nobody knows better than I," said Ruth, "that the water of the Lumano river is at least damp, at all seasons."
"I will make you a lot of trouble," objected Miss Gray.
"No, you won't," the girl of the Red Mill repeated. "Aunt Alvirah will snuggle you down between soft, fluffy blankets, and give you hot boneset tea, or 'composition,' and otherwise coddle you. To-morrow morning you will feel like a new girl."
"Oh, dear!" groaned Miss Gray. "I wish I were a new girl."