“Ship ahoy!” she called, gleefully, using her hands as a megaphone, and there was an answering shout of joy in chorus from the boat. [The next moment they were all shaking hands] on the landing, laughing and talking together in a babel of sound.
“I thought you weren’t coming!” cried Harry. “You promised to write and you never did it!”
Harriet Emery, or Harry, as she preferred to be called, was the daughter of Doctor Emery, the Principal of Ferry Hill School. She was sixteen years of age, or would be very shortly, and a charming girl. She had pronouncedly red hair of a very pretty shade, a pair of sparkling blue eyes, a somewhat pert, little, uptilted nose, and a complexion which, in spite of the coat of tan which was beginning to overspread it was very attractive.
“Well, you certainly have grown!” exclaimed Chub, backing off that he might get the full effect of the graceful figure in its white dress. “Skirts down and hair up,” he added with a shake of his head. “Harry, you must come to Class Day next year. Will you?”
“Do you really think I’ve grown?” she asked, eagerly.
“Grown!” echoed Roy. “You look a whole foot taller!”
“That’s because she wears her hair that way,” said Dick.
“Dick Somes, it is not!” Harry turned upon him indignantly.
“Dick Somes, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!” mimicked Chub. “Don’t you mind him, Harry. He never did have any manners in spite of my careful training. We were beginning to think you weren’t here, Harry.”
“I didn’t know when you were coming, silly! Why didn’t you write? I’ve been awfully anxious.”