Marjorie again thought of the great city as she had seen it when she visited Lily at Thanksgiving, and she shuddered at the confusion and the danger of it all. And to a country girl like Frieda, it must be even more terrifying. But she said nothing further; Mrs. Hammer had no conception of it, and probably never would have. She was relieved to see Miss Phillips make a motion to go.
All during the ride home, she was unusually quiet, but it was not from despair. The visit, she felt, had not been in vain; she had formulated a plan which she meant to put into effect as soon as she reached home. She would write to Frieda and tell her how much she wanted her to come back. She would assure the girl that she did not mind about the canoe—she would even make her a present of it. And she would be glad to send Frieda the money for a return ticket if she would only promise to come back!
CHAPTER XVII
RUTH FINDS THE CANOE
Ruth Henry had always been a pretty girl, but in the past year she had grown even more attractive. Though small of stature, there was nothing insignificant about her; indeed, she was of the striking type which attracts immediate attention, even of the casual observer. Always planning some activity, or involved in some scheme to further her own interests, she was a creature of perpetual animation. This very vivacity was one of her chief charms among young and old.
It was no particular surprise to anyone, therefore, that Harold Mason was smitten by her at first sight. Here, he felt, was his ideal type of girl: pretty, petite, feminine, yet combining with all those characteristics a love of sport and adventure, and a spirit of daring that was almost boyish. What a comrade! he thought.
The boy himself was far from unattractive. Raised in Virginia, he possessed that unconscious charm of the Southerner that is always particularly pleasing to women. He drawled his words, dropping his "r's"; and he had a little habit of smiling at the end of his remarks. Like Ruth, however, Harold Mason was an only child; and, like her, he was spoiled. Possessing a car of his own—even though it happened to be only a Ford sedan—he came and went as he pleased, with the consequence that his studies had often suffered. Now, when he should have been in college, he was merely finishing the latter half of his senior year at High School.
"I tell you what, Ruth," he said on the second day of their holiday (they felt by now as if they had known each other all of their lives), "let's have a regular good time this week. Let's go somewhere every single day!"