“Isn’t it my plan?” she asked. “If I am to be commodore of a yacht club, I must look after things, mustn’t I? Talk it over at home, now, and meet here again Tuesday, if you all can. We want to leave within two weeks, and less, if possible.”
“I say the end of next week,” said Kate, judiciously. “It can be done, Polly.”
“And don’t forget to bring along the chafing dish,” added Sue.
Polly walked down with them to the wide entrance gates, where Aunty Welcome waited, with a bouquet of fresh cut roses for each girl.
Up on the veranda the Admiral surveyed the scene with a good deal of satisfaction.
“They make me think of a lot of butterflies, Tan,” he told the old setter. “Or flowers, Tan, that’s the best simile, a garden of girls. It keeps the heart young just to listen to their laughter, old fellow.”
Tan beat his tail on the floor gently to show he had caught the sentiment, and approved, and the Admiral’s face still wore a smile of pleasure when Polly came up and dropped into the chair beside him.
“How’s she bearing on her course, matey?” he asked.
“Handsomely, sir, handsomely,” laughed Polly. “I am sure they’ll all go. I wonder if they can sail boats.”
“Best find out before you start them off for a yacht club,” advised her grandfather. “Don’t ship any crew on false premises. You let them know what is ahead of them before they sign articles, or you’ll have foul weather as sure as you’re afloat.”