"But I can't," faltered the child, and the rich cultured tone betrayed her good breeding. In fact she used the long "a" in can't and the girls at once decided she was English.
"Oh, why not?" Cleo followed up quickly. "Don't you want to know us?
We are strangers here."
"I should love to know you," the girl replied, and the tanned skin was suffused with a conscious blush, "but I am not permitted to make friends."
"But we are Girl Scouts," argued Grace, assuming her most cajoling air, "and we are supposed to make friends with everybody," she finished. Grace tactfully fondled a beautiful spray of clover that was making its way out of Mary's basket. This action evidently pleased the child, for she smiled, and handed the spray over to its admirer.
"I have read of Girl Scouts," answered the stranger, "and if only granddaddy would allow me what a wonderful time we could have! Do you all gather flowers in nature study, as your books say you should?"
"Oh, yes, indeed we do," replied Cleo heartily. "Do sit down on this little mound where you were when we came along, and let us have a nice quiet talk. No one is near to hear us!"
At that the strange girl glanced furtively toward a clump of blackberry bushes and put her finger to her lips.
"Reda is there, my nurse, you know, and she is very strict. I could win granddaddy over only for her," and the deep-set eyes seemed to freeze over in that glassy stare the girls had noticed before.
"Quick, tell us, where do you live? May we go to your house? Perhaps your grandfather would like us?" Cleo was crowding her questions, lest the woman called Reda should suddenly pounce upon them.
"Perhaps," said the girl, now so dreamy and vague the girls almost felt helpless to pursue their mission.