urmured--to no one in particular.

There was a big dance that night, and when the time came to dress Nan
still further incensed the girls by refusing to dress.

"How would I look in an evening dress and--this thing?" she asked,
holding up her bandaged wrist.

"No one ever would look at your wrist when your face is along, Nan
Sherwood," said Rhoda, at which Nan laughed but still remained firm.

"Oh, well," said Bess, flouncing over to her closet and taking out a
pretty white net and blue satin dress, "I suppose you will have your own
way, Nan. But one way or another, that old Mrs. Bragley and her
miserable papers have just spoiled our trip. I wish she was in Jericho!"

"It was Guinea last time," Nan laughed at her.

Since Nan refused to dance that night, Walter also refused. Try as she
might, Nan could not get him to alter his decision, and finally gave up
the attempt in despair.

"Grace and Bess will be furious," she said.

"Let them," he answered recklessly. "There are plenty of other fellows
around. See that moon over there? Say, Nan, I have a bully idea."

They were standing in one corner of the veranda of the Royal Poinciana.
The veranda looked strangely deserted that night, the dance being at its
height in the ballroom within, and it being still a little early for the
inevitable drifting of couples from the heat of the ballroom to the cool
breezes of the porch.

"An idea?" asked Nan, feeling adventurous herself. "Tell me."

"Back there somewhere the _Bargain Rush_ is waiting," said Walter, his
voice boyishly eager. "Since we can't dance, we might as well 'putt.'
And--it seems too bad to waste that moon."

Nan thought so, too, and a moment later they were running hand in hand
through the garden to the spot where the _Bargain Rush_ waited. They
scrambled on board, Walter started the engine, and they drifted out into
the magic stillness of the night.

"Now tell me," said Walter after a while, his eyes shifting from the
moonlit waters of the lake to Nan where she sat curled up in one of the
chairs, gazing dreamily out over the shadowy water, "isn't this better
than dancing?"

"It's awfully nice," admitted Nan.

"I get so tired of the hot ballroom, and the bright lights," went on the
boy, as he bent over the engine, to see that it was running properly.

"Well, I get tired of the lights myself, Walter."

"And those flashing jewels! Why will some of the women load themselves
with so much jewelry?"

"