“I think that will be fine,” declared Jack. “I’ll do that, too, Jean.”
But Jean was too fastidious to care about getting wet and decided she would prefer to remain under cover. She tipped along daintily under an umbrella when the others, regardless of weather, rushed to the log cabin where breakfast was spread, and she took much satisfaction in announcing that she didn’t get a bit wet.
“I did,” said Jack triumphantly; “my feet are soaked.”
“You didn’t wear rubbers?” said her mother.
“No, mother, what was the use? I shall get a great deal wetter pretty soon, and besides my rubber boots have a hole in them, and it makes it a lot worse than having none at all.”
“But they are quite new, Jack.”
“I know, but I cut them on the rocks, I think, one day when I was wading in the lake.”
“I really don’t think you should go out then.”
“Oh, never mind,” put in Miss Helen. “It won’t hurt her to get wet if she doesn’t get chilled, and if she will change her clothes as soon as she comes in.” So Jack was allowed to go.
About half a dozen or more girls started off for a walk in the rain after breakfast, Jack the most enthusiastic of them all. She returned barefooted and joyous, though drenched to the skin, as were the others, who declared they had never enjoyed anything more.