“At any rate I’m going to ask Mackey!” declared Cleo. “Helen would love to stay, and we would love to have her. We could put hammocks up if it didn’t rain.”
At this juncture Grace was asked to refill the water pail, so she and Madaline raced off to the spring. Both cast furtive glances over the hill to Peg’s cottage, but not even Shag was in sight to indicate life around the log cabin.
“Queer where she keeps herself,” remarked Grace, “but I’m going to fetch her some cake, anyhow.”
“I would too,” agreed Madaline. “She doesn’t seem like a girl who could bake a good cake.”
“No,” added Grace, “but she surely can ride horseback. I just wonder where she goes every day.”
“The girls are going riding to-morrow. Perhaps they’ll find out.”
“Maybe. But aren’t we having a lovely picnic?”
“Wonderful. We’ll have enough cake for all week.”
“I never thought sandwiches could taste so good. I suppose it’s because we haven’t had any homemade bread since we came.”
“And Cleo’s mother brought jam; Cleo hid it in her box back of the cupboard,” said Madaline.