CHAPTER XII
WOODLAND RAMBLES
The next day went by in a whirl. After seeing the folks off for Europe—Nancy and Rosa went over to Mount Major, where Mr. and Mrs. Fernell took the New York train—the remaining hours seemed too few in which to crowd all the things Rosa had planned to do.
The injured foot was all but forgotten. Never was a girl livelier than Rosa, more enthusiastic nor more expectant—for the great times ahead. But through all her plans, it seemed to Nancy, a vein of mystery ran. For instance, she would talk about losing weight, exercising, dieting and go over the entire formula, when suddenly she would stop short, maybe put her finger to her lips and do something to indicate secrecy.
“It’s all planned and plotted,” she declared, when she finally did agree to take a little walk through the special fern path from which the place had received its name, “and won’t daddy and Betty be surprised?”
“What makes you so sure?” asked Nancy. “How ever can you tell that you will lose pounds and pounds?”
“I’m positive,” replied Rosa. “And I just dream of it all the time. Haven’t you ever had that sort of dream?”
“The silly kind? Surely. I had one special pet—and I’m afraid I haven’t banished it yet,” admitted Nancy. “I always wanted to wake up with light golden curls and heavenly blue eyes.”
The shout with which Rosa replied to this must have disturbed every pixy in the woods, for she simply roared!
“And you think that would make you happy! Why, I have blue eyes and curls, and my hair was golden—”