"Miss Burton, we don't insist that our honorary member shall perform, but we'd like it if you would," said Betty.
Miss Burton smiled good-naturedly. "I would tell you a story, only I am afraid our Western member would be too stiff to move if she sat through it. How would you like to postpone my part of the program until after school some day, and then come and have a cup of chocolate with me?"
"Oh, lovely!" cried Dorothy, always ready for anything that Miss
Burton proposed.
As she spoke a sound as of some one sliding came from behind the big rock, and then a low but unmistakable chuckle.
"It's some of those horrid boys," said Dorothy tragically.
The girls tore off caps and sashes, but before they could wholly divest themselves of their gypsy appearance two heads peered around the rock and a pleading voice said, "Please, may we come in?"
"Indeed you may not," cried Dorothy, quite white with anger. "I think you're the meanest boy I ever saw, Frank Marshall, and you're not one bit better, Bert. Between you, you always spoil all my good times. I think it's the most despicable thing to spy on people, and——"
There was such a sudden stillness about her that Dorothy became conscious of Miss Burton's troubled expression and Ruth's surprised face.
"Well, I don't care; it was a mean trick," she muttered as she turned her back on the boys and walked away.
"Honestly, girls, we didn't mean to make you mad," said Frank as his sister finished. "We came up for a walk and didn't know any one was here till we saw the smoke from your fire. We came over to find out about that, and heard the young lady from the West recite her poem. We should have gone off without letting you know if Bert hadn't slipped on the rock."