That night seven happy girls reviewed the day with pleasure. The sail through the islands had been a joy—the dinner a delight; the service a benediction that would long linger in the minds of all present. It had been such fun to cook the meal—fry the bacon on the end of a forked twig over the glowing camp fire; to tramp through the purple fields of rhodora, gather the low pink mounds of sheep laurel; to quaff great breaths of the fragrant sea air.
There had been just a suggestion of a Lambs' meeting, too. The song of the Lambs had been sung with much enthusiasm and feeling, and many injunctions passed on to the Junior part of the assemblage for use during the next year. There was a wild enthusiastic cheer for Sargentville; an equally ecstatic one for Mrs. Paine and Fairview, and then the little company pulled for shore to pack their several belongings and make ready for the boat which left at sunrise the next morning.
The days which preceded Commencement were happy ones for Blue Bonnet. While she shared in a measure Annabel's depression at parting from friends, her association with the school had not been of such duration that it made her absolutely unhappy to leave it. The bright, sunny days had brought many pleasures. Among them were visits with her grandmother, who, now that the weather was seasonable, made frequent trips to Boston. There was a possibility of a separation from Blue Bonnet in the future, and Mrs. Clyde wished to be near her as much as possible.
"You have quite decided to go back to the ranch with Uncle Cliff for the summer, dear?" she asked Blue Bonnet one afternoon. It was Friday, and Blue Bonnet was spending the week-end with her family; Uncle Cliff was still in Boston. Aunt Lucinda had taken out her sewing and there was a very homey atmosphere—even in the garish hotel room—conducive to a confidential chat.
Blue Bonnet did not answer for a minute.
"I think so, Grandmother," she said presently. "It seems almost as if I should. Uncle Cliff needs me—and there's Gabriel, too! I should like to get him started in his new quarters. Do you know what Uncle Cliff is doing? Having a sleeping-porch built for him. We're going to bring him up outdoors. Doctor Clark says we won't know him in a year. The change has been perfectly wonderful in the little time he has been in Woodford. I had a letter from Miss Warren yesterday. She says he's crazy over the little Shetland pony Uncle Cliff bought for him—that he has a short ride every morning. Knight Judson has been spending a week-end with the General and he's been awfully kind to Gabriel. The pony? Oh, we were a little afraid to trust Gabriel to a Texas mustang yet, so Uncle Cliff found this little fellow. We're going to ship him ahead of our departure, so as to be at the ranch ready for Gabriel."
"Gabriel is a very lucky boy," Mrs. Clyde said. "A very lucky boy."
"Oh, I don't know, Grandmother. He is—of course. But we're lucky, too—Uncle Cliff and I. You can't think what company he'll be to us. It's going to keep us from growing selfish and self-centred to have him. You know I've always wanted an orphan asylum all my own. This is just a starter."
Grandmother smiled into the enthusiastic young face.
"Do you ever look ahead into the future, Blue Bonnet, and plan your life a little?" Aunt Lucinda asked. "It seems to me that you are old enough now. Your mother was but a year older when she married."