Miss Ramsdell was also leaving.
“Peggie is so temperamental,” she apologized. “But the Fairbanks family are not to be trusted—we have had our own troubles with those girls and their unscrupulous father.”
“But we are so sorry you couldn’t have stayed a little longer,” said Miss Mackin. “I was just hoping our girls were finally going to get acquainted. You see we have so short a time here now, and your place has been an attraction from the first,” she smiled condescendingly at the glowering Scouts.
“Please do not think us rude,” begged Miss Ramsdell. “We are not free to act as we would always choose. Sometimes I doubt the wisdom of my niece’s determination; but she is determined to the point of desperation, and she keeps offsetting my arguments with the hope of an early victory.” (This was ambiguous but sounded effective.) “I must go right along after her,” continued the little lady. “If that Leonore should become too aggressive I wouldn’t wonder if Peg would just use some muscle on her,” and she nodded her head insistently.
“We hate to have you go,” murmured Cleo. She was going over to the shady spot where the black mare waited its rider. Miss Ramsdell drew on her gloves while the Scout led her horse up to a stone convenient for mounting.
“We are so grateful and have enjoyed our little picnic so much,” said the woman. “Good-bye, everyone, and perhaps before camp breaks we may be able to offer our own humble hospitality.” With a slight effort she was in the saddle. Yes, it was perfectly evident that Miss Ramsdell was very much at home on her horse.
“A one reel act,” remarked Louise. “I shouldn’t care to keep moving at the pace the Ramsdells run.”
“They surely fear trouble,” said Julia. “What can they be so secretive about?”
“Whatever it is I wouldn’t like to be playing Leonore’s part when Peg meets her,” remarked Grace. “As her aunt said, she would likely use muscle on the intruder,” and Grace demonstrated to the loss of a perfectly good half cup of lemonade that had been, until that moment, in the hand of Julia.
“And was Shag really keeping guard?” questioned Helen, keen on the scent of trouble for someone else.