"I guess that's what it means to be fourteen and grown up," she said.
CHAPTER V
Ninety-Nine Negroes
Peggy and Elizabeth were lying on the beach in their bathing suits. Peggy had hollowed out a careful seat in the sand, and built arm rests and a slanting support for the head, which she was trying to recline on and enjoy. Elizabeth, who had made no such elaborate preparations for relaxation, was really comfortable. She was wearing a black mohair suit with a patent leather belt and silk stockings, and a blue rubber cap put on with great care, so that tendrils of soft brown hair framed her face. Peggy wore a rubber diving cap that made her look as if she had been scalped, but her blue jersey suit was trimmed with blue and green stripes and slashed up the side and laced fetchingly.
"Did you get your birthday wish, or did you wish for a handsome husband in the sweet bye and bye?" Peggy asked, lazily. "I always wish for things that will happen right away, because I can't stand the strain of not knowing whether I'm going to get them or not."
"I didn't wish to get anything. I wished to be something. I can't tell yet whether I'm going to succeed in being it."
"Oh, I know—occasions like that always make you feel noble, but I hate to waste a wish on wanting to be a better girl. You can't tell your wish, and if you don't, there's nobody that can judge whether you've got it or not."
"Can't we judge for ourselves?"