"Venice or Japan, whichever you like, Miss Allen," laughed Lily, "just so long as we make the money—for the cause is a good one, you know."
Teachers, girls from the school, people from the village,—a larger crowd than the Scouts had dared to hope for—continued to arrive. Charmed by the novel idea, they bought lavishly; and few escaped without first visiting the fortune-telling booth presided over by Miss Phillips, or taking a ride in one of the row-boats, or in Marjorie's canoe.
All the while, however, Marjorie watched anxiously for the appearance of Frieda. Would the girl disappoint her? Marjorie had been so busy during the week that she had not been able to go to see her, but Mrs. Johnson had told Miss Phillips that Frieda had gone regularly to school, and that her teacher reported progress.
Towards nine o'clock, however, just as Marjorie was landing her canoe with two of the teachers who had been for a ride, she caught sight of a familiar pink dress.
Ruth, who had joined their group in order to serve the guests with ice-cream, also noticed the newcomer.
"I wonder who that is!" remarked Ruth, vainly attempting to identify the girl in the dim light. "She's all dolled up, too!"
A smile spread over Marjorie's face, and she waved her hand in welcome. Frieda advanced slowly, as if she were not sure that she desired to join the group. When she was within half a dozen steps of them, Ruth recognized her.
"Frieda Hammer!" announced Ruth, in a stage whisper that was perfectly audible to the girl herself. Then, turning to the others, and laughing, she added, "Hold on to your jewelry! Nothing's safe——"
"Sh!" cautioned Marjorie, in the deepest distress. "Do be careful, Ruth. She'll hear you!"