“Peggie, dear, where have you been?” asked the woman. Her voice was low and well-modulated.
“Just down to see the new camp,” replied the girl. “Had your breakfast?”
“No, I waited for you. I do hope, Peggie,” there was a note of entreaty in her words, “that you are not doing anything—risky.”
“Ramrods and toothpicks!” exclaimed the girl. “Anything risky! Why, Carrie, I went down to see the new camp—the Girl Scouts, you know.”
“Oh yes. Those little girls who wear the uniform?”
“Uh—ha: the girls who wear a perpetual smile and several dollars’ worth of necktie,” replied Peg, a bit sarcastically.
“I am sure they look very neat and tidy, and I hope you are going to make friends with them,” ventured Aunt Carrie, vindictively.
“Now, please don’t start pestering me with that sort of thing,” protested the girl. “You know I don’t want to make friends with any girls.”
“You are so foolish, dear, and I fear sometimes you are going to extremes with——”
“Now, Carrie! Don’t be cross, please. Just let me have my way for this one little summer and the time will be up. Then, if you want me to, I’ll curl my hair if I have to sleep on the rolling-pin with the ends wound round it.” She laughed gaily at this prospect.