“Oh, yes,” drawled Betta.
“I so want her to grow into scouting,” continued Mrs. Manton, and at that Nora felt she could make her presence known. But a quick snap of a stick from Betta, as she swished it back of Nora’s bush, kept her from stepping out.
“Does she like the water?” asked Wyn, with a suppressed giggle.
“I am afraid she has had little chance to get acquainted with it,” replied Ted. “Nora has been developed at one angle. This sort of experience would probably give her nervous prostration.”
That was the cue. Nora jumped out!
“Child!”
“The very same!” pronounced Thistle grandly, waving a dripping arm.
Mrs. Manton was too surprised to do more than look at Nora. Her brown eyes were twinkling and her mouth twitching in a broad grin. Presently she jumped past Betta and threw her arms around Nora.
“You darling baby!” she exclaimed, all unmindful of the water she was blotting up from Nora’s new suit. “How ever did you—come here and get—like—this?”
“Chick-chick-chick-Chickadees!” sang out a chorus. “Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!”