ar figure coming along the side drive towards the well
sweep, and leaned out of the window, calling with all her heart:

"Hello, Billie!"

Billie waved back with a cheery greeting that brought the other girls
hurrying to the window, too.

"The camp's immense," he said. "We got in late last night and I knew the
way down, so we didn't disturb anybody. Even found the old boat in the
same place, Kit."

"Well, you wouldn't have if I hadn't hauled it there, where I knew you
could lay your hand right on it. I rather thought it would be just like
you to arrive by the light of the moon and try to swim over."

Billie chuckled. He knew from old, past experience that Kit's scoldings
didn't amount to any more than the perturbed clucking of a hen. They had
brought up a load of supplies with them, but huckleberry pancakes with
honey lured them both up for breakfast that first morning. And even Kit
was silent as Stanley related all of his adventures during the year. It
seemed to her that she had never really looked at him before, that is, to
get the best impression, without prejudice. Somehow, he looked younger and
more boyish this year, anyway, in his camper's low-necked sport shirt and
khaki riding breeches. Kit noted for the first time his crispy, curly
yellow hair, and long, half-closed blue eyes, that always seemed to be
laughing at you. He had dimples, too, and these Kit resented.

"I can't abide dimples in a boy or a man's face," she declared, privately,
to Helen, when the latter was dwelling on Stanley's good looks.

"But, Kit, all of the Roman emperors had dimples in their chins."

"What if they did? They're a fine lot to judge by." Kit meditated for a
moment and then added, "I don't think I like blonde, curly hair either."

"Well, I do," Helen answered, placidly. "I think he'd look wonderful in
doublet and hose with a long cloak thrown around him. I think he's much
better looking than Ralph."

"You'd better not let Jean hear you say so," Kit told her sagely. "I
wouldn't be very much surprised if something mighty interesting happened
here this summer. I heard mother and Cousin Roxy talking about Ralph and
Jean the other day."

"Oh, Kit, don't be mean. Tell me what they said, please. I won't tell."

"Impossible, child," returned Kit, loftily. "In fact, it was only what I
might call a family rumor. But, I can tell you this much, I know perfectly
well that Ralph MacRae has asked Dad for his eldest daughter's hand, and