"No matter how carefully we arrange it," she protested to Cleo on the porch of the Log Cabin, "some of the girls insist on crowding in other things. Now, to-day we were to go canoeing, and here comes Julia, telephoning to every one of us to go sailing in a sail boat."
"I think that's lovely of Julia," said Cleo, "because Grazia dear, we can go canoeing any day, but only sailing when some one asks us. Who did?"
"Julia's cousins from Breakentake sailed down the bay early this morning—it must have been a very early start. They are going to stay over, and Julia says if the wind is right, we may all go out for the afternoon. Of course, it's a lovely prospect, but what's the use of making plans? Why not just grab them?"
Grace had ridden over on her bicycle, and the exercise furnished her a wonderful beautifier—had she real need of the process. Eyes shining, cheeks glowing, with almost dewy softness of color, even Cleo, ordinarily indifferent to temperamental changes, commented on her chum's appearance.
"I do believe, Grace," she remarked, "the dampness is good for the complexion. You're as downy as a peach."
"Dampness is a beautifier. Leonore says so. That's what makes Newport so popular. Ever see the hydrangeas grow there? But Cleo dear, you haven't been forgotten in the fog. You are rather peachy yourself."
"Nay, nay, false friend. Tempt me not—I shall not desert the ranks for movies," and Cleo struck one of her popular attitudes. "But about the sailing ship-ahoy! I'm ready. What time do we embark?"
"Julia will call us all up after lunch when she gets a line on the wind. I believe it has to be in 'on high' to get us up the bay. All right," and Grace mounted her wheel. "We will all be ready, and hereafter little Captain, count me out on the program cards. They do better when left to the inspirational, as our own Captain Clark would say."
To be able to learn, to be elastic to the point of flexibility, is surely the secret of all progress, and these girls of True Tred had little need of such a lesson.
The Blowell stood straining at its cable at Round River dock when the scouts, numbering a troop, scampered aboard. Julia's cousins, Mae and Eugenia Westbrook, prided themselves on their nautical skill, and nothing could possibly be more promising for a day's sport than a sail on the Blowell.