"Well, all gypsies are akin, they say; so maybe we could find out something about Mr. Ford's Beauty and about Mrs. Billette's silver," returned Betty.
"Oh, don't talk about that," cried Mollie. "It fairly makes me sick, for I'm sure we shall never hear of the things again."
"I wonder when the boys are going to try to ford to the islands?" said Grace. "The tide's getting low now."
"Hello! where is everybody?" it was Will's voice calling from the woods. "We are going for a paddle—who wants to come along?"
"Ask us," called Betty. "We were just hoping you'd come to life."
"Ah, the voice of the siren," called Will, over his shoulder. "Come on, fellows, let's break up this galaxy of beauty."
The boys sauntered up to the group of girls, and sprawled upon the steps wherever there was room.
"Where have you kept yourselves all morning?" Mollie inquired, as Frank drew a bur from her white skirt. "If you hadn't come pretty soon, we were going over to look for you."
"Oh, just around clearing up," Frank replied, with a vague little gesture. "If we had known how much you wanted to see us, we would have left some things undone."
"You needn't have hurried on my account," Grace drawled. "I don't know when I have ever felt happier than I did before you came. Oh, Roy, do look out, you are sitting on my dress."