"Oh, girls, I simply must rest again!" exclaimed Grace, as, with a wry face, she made for a smooth stump, which was all that was left of a great oak that had recently been cut down, as it had died, and was in danger of falling.
"What! Again?" cried Mollie. "Say, Grace, my dear, you never will be able to keep up with us on the tramp, if you give out so easily now. What is the matter?"
"Matter? Look at her shoes!" cried Amy. "Such heels!"
"They're not so awful high!" and Grace sought to defend her footwear from the three pairs of accusing eyes.
"It's a very pretty boot," remarked Betty. "But hardly practical, my dear."
"I suppose not," sighed Grace. "But I just simply could not resist the temptation to take them when the sales-girl tried them on me. I saw them in Robertson's window, and they were such a bargain—a sample shoe she said—that's why they're so narrow."
"You can wear a narrow size," spoke Mollie with a sigh. "I wish I could."
"Oh, I think your shoes are a lovely shape," spoke Grace. "I wish I had your high instep."
"Move over," begged Amy. "There's room for two on that stump, Grace."
Grace obligingly moved, and her friend sat beside her, idly swinging a couple of books by a long strap. Betty and Mollie supported themselves by draping their arms about each other's waists.