“You’re right!” replied Jack, surveying her “nautical” outfit. “Couldn’t beat it.”
“Silly! I mean going for the cruise.”
“Oh, I thought you meant that rig you’re wearing. It is most becoming, but I hope it won’t get wet.”
“Oh, the water won’t hurt it. I got it on that account. I think the girls’ maroon sweaters look dandy—they can be seen for such a distance.”
“Yes, I suppose togs have something to do with a good time, although I must say Cora doesn’t seem to give much time to hers. Look at Marita in white. She looks like a French doll.”
“Oh, she is the cutest thing!” replied Lottie, in her gushing way. “But Cora is simply stunning! Just see how she stands out in the crowd.”
Lottie and Jack strolled through the moss-padded path that led to the white sands of Tangle Turn, talking in this vein as they went. It was indeed a merry crowd, and well worth noticing, as was evinced by the number of curious spectators already assembled on the dock to which the Chelton was tied.
“Who’s the man?” asked Jack, espying a striking figure in the throng.
“Oh, that’s Uncle Denny; don’t you know him? He is the dearest——”
“Now, Lottie, I can see his bald head under his cap at this distance without marine glasses, and it’s a rule of the club that ‘dears’ have special advantages in the matter of healthy heads of hair. But, of course, if you wish to call him ‘dear’——”