XIV

A FALLING IN

"HOW'S the Sleeping Beauty this morning?" was Alec's salutation to
Blue Bonnet, when he appeared early next day in advance of the other
picnickers. Blue Bonnet asleep at her own party had been a spectacle
he would not soon forget; it was almost as funny as being absent from
her first tea, on that memorable day in Woodford.

"The Sleeping Beauty could find it in her heart to envy Rip Van
Winkle; a nap like his is just what I crave. But no,--Sarah must needs
have breakfast at cock-crow," Blue Bonnet complained.

"Why, Blue Bonnet, it was after eight o'clock when I called you,"
returned Sarah in a grieved tone.

"Sarah didn't want breakfast mistaken for lunch again," said Amanda.

"My prophetic soul tells me that we are going to conduct ourselves
like a model Sunday-school class to-day," Blue Bonnet remarked.

"What makes you think so?" asked Amanda, in whom the memory of
yesterday's trials was still undimmed.

"'Well begun is half done,' you know. And this beginning is
obnoxiously perfect." Blue Bonnet was wiping off the oil-cloth as she
spoke; dishes were already washed, beds done, and all without a hitch.

"I hope our picnic won't prove to be of the Sunday-school variety,"
said Kitty.

"I'm sure our Sunday-school picnics at home are always very nice,"
Sarah said reprovingly.

"Every one to his taste!" was Kitty's airy rejoinder.

"You can make up your mind that this picnic won't be like any other
you ever attended," Alec assured them. "Knight has a scheme up his
sleeve that will bear watching. I wonder, Blue Bonnet, if Mrs. Clyde
would mind letting us take coffee?"

Blue Bonnet reflected. "To-morrow is Sunday and we're privileged to
have it for breakfast. If we have it to-day instead I'm sure she won't
object. What else shall we take?"

"Only some bread, some lump sugar and a tin of milk, please," said
Alec modestly.

Amanda gave a sudden exclamation of joy. "Then we won't be back to
lunch,--oh, Blue Bonnet, that lets us out to-day!"

They fell upon each other rapturously.

"I think we are the ones who should rejoice," said Kitty; but her
remark met with the silent scorn it deserved.

They mustered a troop of twelve, all mounted, for Knight's picnic.
Riding by twos, they cantered decorously as long as the eyes of their
elders followed their course; but when a turn in the road freed them
from observation, there was a spurring and an urging of the wiry
ponies, and away they we