But as he caught sight of Nathalie, his excuses suddenly ceased, and with a few strides he reached the veranda and was eyeing the new girl’s health-flushed face and sparkling brown eyes with much favor. After a hearty shake of the hand in answer to his sister’s introduction, he dropped into a chair by Nathalie’s side, and soon they were all chatting and laughing merrily as Fred told of some Scout adventure that had happened on their last hike.
“But you had an adventure, too, did you not?” he asked suddenly, looking at the young girl by his side with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “the day you were rescued by the Pioneers?”
“Oh, did you hear about that?” Nathalie cried, her face taking on a deeper tinge of pink. She had always felt the least mite ashamed of that mishap.
“Yes, and how about the blue robins?” he continued in a quizzing tone.
“Oh, Grace,” exclaimed Nathalie, “you have been telling tales!” and then with a laugh, she told of finding the bluebird’s nest, excusing her ignorance by the plea that she was a city-bred girl.
The conversation soon drifted to Boy Scouts, Fred being a Patrol Leader, and greatly interested in the organization. Finding that Nathalie had had some difficulty in learning knot-tying, he kindly volunteered to give her a lesson in that intricate art. His pupil proved an apt scholar, as it was not long before she had mastered the weaver’s, the overhand, the reef, and had gained a fair insight into several other knots. Before the lesson had ended Fred had asked if he might not come up some evening with Grace, and give her another lesson and meet her brother Dick.
Nathalie’s face dimpled; she hastened to assure him that she would be pleased to welcome them at the house, and that she knew her brother would be more than delighted to know a Westport lad. And then she told him all about her brother’s misfortune, and how depressed he grew at times without his chums to drop in and cheer him.
The clock had just struck four when the girls, escorted by Fred, who claimed he was going their way, neared the high stone wall overtopped with gray turrets and nodding trees that looked as if they yearned to leap beyond their barrier.
“Wasn’t it a queer idea to build a beautiful house like this and then fence it in like some old monastery?” questioned Grace. “See, here’s a bell in the stone gate, the way they used to have it in olden times.”
“Ugh! I hate to go in—the place gives me the creeps!” she shivered nervously. “Oh, Fred, do come in with us, we shall not be long.”