h
so grandly Sunday morning!" and so the merry girls chattered on, while
they spread the cloth and Betty put a decoration of leaves round the
edge and a handful of flowers in the middle. "You have such a way of
prettifying things," said Mary Beck; "there, the chocolate pot is
beginning to boil already."

"We ought to have some fresh water; it is time papa came back," said
Betty anxiously; and just then appeared papa and smiling Aunt Barbara,
and a small tin pail which had to be borrowed at a farm-house half a
mile away because it was forgotten.

The wind blew cool across the river, and more and more boats went
gliding up and down in the channel, though the tide was very low.
Everybody was hungrier than ever, because the sea wind is famous for
helping on an appetite, and the hot chocolate was none too hot after
all, though Aunt Barbara's bonnet was hanging on a branch and she did
not seem to miss the shelter of it. Becky was forced to change her
opinion about cooking; she had always disliked to have anything to do
with it; it seemed to her a thing to be ignored and concealed in polite
society, and yet Betty was openly proud of having had a few
cooking-school lessons, and of knowing the right way to do things. Becky
suddenly began to parade her own knowledge, and found herself of great
use to the party. Instead of being unwilling when her mother asked for
help again, she meant to learn a great many more things. She was
overjoyed when she found a tin box of coffee, and remembered that Betty
had said it was her father's chief delight. She would make a good cup
for him in the morning. Betty was always saying how nice it was to know
how to do things. She never expected to like to wash dinner dishes, but
the time had come, though a hot sun was somehow pleasanter than a hot
stove, and it had been a gypsy dinner, with potatoes in the ashes and
buns toasted on a hot stone, and no end of good things beside.

"We must have some oysters to roast for our supper. I know a place just
below here where they are very salt and good," said Mr. Leicester; "and
one of you young men might go fishing, and bring us in a string of
flounders, or anything you can get. We have breakfast to look out for,
you remember."

"Ay, ay, sir," said Harry Foster, sailor fashion, but with uncommon
heartiness. Harry had been very quiet and care-taking on the boat, and
had not said much, either, since he came ashore, but his eyes had been
growing brighter, a