“Don’t be silly,” laughed Carolyn, while Kathryn clutched her black hair with one hand and held the other to her heart.
“It’s about some very splendid people who are going to be in a cottage—oh, not so very far away. The cottages are scattered up there, you know.”
Kathryn put both hands to her head now. “Let me think, Carolyn! Who said she was going to the coast?”
“Never mind thinking, Gypsy. It might be dangerous. You know how unaccustomed exercise——”
Carolyn was obliged to break off as laughing Kathryn leaned over to threaten violence.
But at last the news was told. “The Waites have taken a cottage there and Marcella is going up about the time we do, I think.”
“How fine!” cried Kathryn. “Betty—‘the Pirate of Penzance!’”
But Betty was already thinking of that romantic youth, Marcia Waite’s brother. “Will the Pirate be on hand?” she asked, after her first pleased exclamation at the news.
“Very likely,” impressively said Carolyn.
“He will not mean much in our young lives, Kathryn,” continued Betty, “if he was awfully nice to us at Marcella’s party and other places. He is all grown up and at just the age when they have terrible cases in college.”