“But we were sure to find you,” Nancy insisted. “Don’t you hate to leave your rustic bower? Even your room in Fernlode could never be as lovely as that camp. I’ve seen pictures like it in the Geographical, but I never expected to visit one in reality,” she enthused.
“We’ll come back,” chanted Rosa, “and bring parties of our own. Won’t the boys howl?”
“Step in, please,” the boatman ordered, for they had reached the edge. “It’s getting late.”
Once seated in the boat the girls did what they could to make Orilla more presentable. They pinned up her hair, fixed the rough khaki blouse, and Nancy insisted upon contributing her tie, although Orilla protested that a tie was not necessary for her to wear, she never did so, she declared. But the bright little tie improved her looks, they were all quite positive of that.
The transfer from boat to auto was made easily, as Orilla, who was perhaps more frightened at finding herself ill and being alone in the camp than actually sick, seemed much better and expressed keen interest in all the girls’ prattle.
“Like a real story,” Nancy thrilled. “I’ll have to tell it hundreds of times to Ted, I know,” she laughed happily, for she expected soon to have that welcome privilege.
“Don’t let’s stop at your mother’s now,” proposed Rosa. “We can come straight back and fetch her up after you get installed, Orilla. Margot has been frightfully busy, but she promised to have the room aired and everything,” she added sagely.
This plan was quickly agreed upon, and when Dell drew her car up alongside of the porch, Orilla seemed almost too dazed to step out.
“Home, James!” joked Rosa, jumping around gayly. “Fernlode is going to have three girls now instead of just me.”
“But I’ll soon be going home,” Nancy told her, while they all, including Dell, marched along the porch with Orilla.