another girl in the palest of pink dresses, with ripples of
snowy lace all over it, and a wide-brimmed hat shading her eyes. And
speaking distance being gained, she said, with a breezy little laugh:
"Sewing? Why, it's too warm to breathe."

"That's the reason I sew," returned the other, with a nod of energy. "I
should suffocate if I just sat still and thought how warm it is. Where
have you been?"

"Down to the pond, skipping stones, and wishing that I could go in,"
answered the new-comer, sitting down on the grass with a careful and
gracefully effective arrangement of her flounces and lace. "I don't see
why papa won't let us take the boat; it did look too tempting. Suppose
we go and do it, anyhow, Bea, and just let him see that we can manage it
without being taught. The pond is all in the shade now, and a row would
be delicious."

"Why, Ernestine!" Bea said, with a glance of surprise; "You wouldn't, I
know. Papa will teach us right away, and then we will have delightful
times; but when he has been so good as to get us the boat and promise to
have us learn to manage it, I'm sure I wouldn't disobey and try alone."

Ernestine laughed again her pretty saucy laugh and threw her head back
so that it caught a dancing sunbeam and held it prisoner in the bright
hair.

"I would," she said flippantly. "I'd like to, just for the sake of doing
something. Do you know, Bea,"--knitting the arched brows with a petulant
air,--"Sometimes I think I'll do something dreadful; perfectly dreadful,
you know, so as to have things different for a little bit. It's horrible
to live right along, just so, without anything ever happening."

"Well I'm sure," said Bea, laying down her sewing and surveying her
sister slowly, "you have just about as good and easy a time as ever I
heard of a girl's having. What are you all dressed up so for?"

"Just for something to do. I've tried on all my dresses and hats, and
wasted the blessed afternoon parading before the glass," laughed
Ernestine, swinging her pretty hat with its shirrings of delicate pink,
around on her white hand. "I do think this dress is lovely, so I made
believe I was being dressed by my maid and coming out to walk in my park
like an English lady, you know."

"English fiddlesticks!" said Bea, with energy. "You are a goosey.
Suppose you had to work and couldn't have pretty things and waste your
time trying them on?"

"What misery," cried Ernestine, jumping up and whirling around on her