“Probably,” agreed Billie. “It’s always a little sad, saying good-by to summer. And this year, what with the treasure hunt and Sun Dial Lodge, we have had such marvelous fun.”
Later, as the little fleet moved slowly across the water in the direction of Three Towers Hall, the young folks sang, joining their voices in the sweet old melodies of Juanita, Suwanee River, and ending with the solemn and beautiful Now the Day Is Over.
When they landed on the dock the shadows had descended in a gentle mist over everything, touching familiar objects with a mysterious magic, wrapping the young folks about in a pleasant isolation.
In the shadows close to her, Billie heard some one sob. She turned about, surprised, to find it was Edina who had made that choking, desperate sound.
“Why, Edina! What is it, dear? Edina, tell Billie!”
“I love it all so!” said Edina, in a curious, harsh voice. “It’s been such a wonderful day. I never knew what it was to be so happy!”
“But, Edina, that’s nothing to cry about!”
“That—that’s all you know! You shouldn’t ’a’ been so nice to me—you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t! If I have to go away from here now—it will—just clean—break my heart!”
Edina whirled quickly and vanished in the mist and the shadows, leaving Billie to wonder if she had not dreamed the curious interview.
“What’s the matter with her?” Vi stood at Billie’s elbow. “She’s upset about something, isn’t she? Could it be anything Paul Martinson said or did, do you suppose?”