They found her in the dining-room, making salad dressing, and upon the table was a newly-boiled ham, and a quantity of chopped chicken.
"There, now, mamma is doing something about eating, too," exclaimed Dimple. "I'd just like to know what it is all for. Won't you tell us, mamma? Are you going to have a tea or anything like that?"
"Not exactly like that; but we are going on a picnic."
"Oh! oh! a picnic! Tell us, mamma. Who is going? Are we children to go?"
"Yes. You children, Mrs. Hardy and Rock, the Spears, the Neals, and the Jacksons. Mr. Atkinson, too, I think."
"Which Jacksons?"
"Mr. David Jackson's family. Mr. Atkinson is not sure of being here, but he hopes to be able to get off."
"Oh, good! Tell us some more, mamma."
"We are going to start early to-morrow afternoon, if it is pleasant. We will take supper with us. We are going up the river to the island, and have our meal there."
"Fine! fine! Oh, Florence, you have never been to the island, and it is just lovely there. I think you are very good to let us go, mamma, after our running away in a boat."