The girls were that moment joined by Charlie Rose, fresh, dapper, and full of morning "poesy."
"The stars have left the morning skies
To beam in Ellen's lovely eyes,"
he began, when Dian interrupted saucily, "Well, I'll declare!" then he finished—
The rose has left the dawn so meek,
To bloom in Dian's beauteous cheek."
"Well, Charlie, you are at least impartial with your ridiculous compliments," laughed Dian, "but I wish you wouldn't go on about my blowzy cheek."
"I said beauteous," corrected Charlie.
"Where's Tom Allen?" asked Ellen.
"Oh, he's fishing, as usual. Did you folks have plenty of fish this morning?" and then Charlie told absurd Munchhausen fish stories till the girls were convulsed with girlish laughter.
"What became of Boyle, the elegant?" asked Charlie. "Me thinks I see not his fringed pantaloons, nor his gay, red shirt. Hast seen his ludship this bright morning?"
There was a wicked echo in the back regions of the Winthrop tent as Charlie asked this, and a chorus of childish voices piped up, "Come and kiss yoo papa," and Dian and Ellen were again too overcome with successive peals of cruel, heartless merriment even to reply to Charlie.