The girls got up and shook off a flying shower of sand which nearly buried poor Timmy Loo. But he did some shaking on his own account, and scampered along beside them. All at once he gave a squeal and darted ahead, and then flew back with a great news written all over his funny little face.
“He’s found somebody,” said Hester. “Who is it, Tim?”
Tim flew round the corner of an old pier, the girls followed, and there, leaning cozily against a post, were Marguerite and Nan.
“Did you come for us?” said Marguerite. “We were just going to start. We’ve been here a long while, and we’ve had the loveliest time.”
“You have!” exclaimed Hester. “How did you get here?”
The two scapegraces laughed, and Nan said: “Well, you see, it was such a pleasant morning, and such a short walk, we left our hats to home, and, not to disturb the rest of you, we climbed out of our window, and crawled down that low sloping roof, and jumped off.”
“Then you didn’t get our note?” said Betty.
“What note?”
“Oh, girls, there’s no breakfast ready—or anything.”
“Well,” confessed Marguerite, “when we jumped down by the shed steps, there was the pail of milk, and—we just took a drink, and, truly, we didn’t mean to stay so long; but Nannie’s been writing a poem, and I hated to interrupt her till she finished.”