“What’s a bad sign?” questioned Marjorie, looking up from her letter at the mention of her own name.
“That you don’t like our friends of the red car!” returned Florence. “Because you know that you don’t, Marj!”
“No, I’ll admit that I don’t care a lot about them,” replied the other truthfully. “My brother didn’t like them much either—he asked about them in this letter, and hoped that you hadn’t allowed them to get too intimate.”
“I can’t see that it concerns him—or John Hadley either!” flashed Florence, angrily. “Why they should they take it upon themselves—”
“Please don’t play grandma!” put in Daisy, imploringly.
“All right—anything so that you hurry and give us plenty of time at the lake.”
It was not long before the girls were in their tents again, preparing for the excursion of the afternoon. Marjorie was the first to be dressed, and she took the time to survey her uniform while she waited for the others.
“Girls,” she remarked dismally, “don’t you think this is a sorry sight? Oughtn’t we to be washing them again?”
“Mine is awfully dirty,” agreed Lily; “I’m ready to join you!”
“You don’t mean to wash them in the Lake?” demanded Alice.