me to dress before their
engagement?

"Girls," a sepulchral voice whispered suddenly in Jean's ear, "we have
just ten minutes to get to the hotel to call on those dreadful Harmons,
if we rush off this minute."

Jean caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror which happened to be just
before her on the counter. Her stylish appearance of the morning had
disappeared; her hat was on one side and a smudge decorated the tip of
her piquant nose. Then she gazed disapprovingly at Jack, who was almost
as much wilted and whose hair was anything but neat. Olive's appearance
was the best, but she was unusually pale, with violet shadows under her
eyes and a soft droop to her whole body.

"Behold the Three Graces!" Jean remarked disdainfully. "Jack Ralston,
I'll not go a step to call on those people until we have had a chance to
fix ourselves up. I know they will talk all summer about how dreadful we
are if they see us first looking such frights."

"But, Jean," Jack argued, as much depressed as her cousin, "if we go
back to our boarding place and dress before we make our call we shall be
so horribly late that Mrs. Harmon probably won't see us and she may be
so offended that she will refuse to come to the Lodge this summer. Then
good-by to our caravan trip."

Jean's rebellious attitude slowly altered. "But what shall I do about
the smut on my nose, Jack?" she objected faintly.

"Rub it off with your handkerchief," Jack replied cruelly, as the three
girls made a hurried rush for a car.

"But we may meet the son of the family, and I think Donald Harmon is a
dream of a name," Jean continued mournfully, "and I did hope that one of
us would be able to make an impression on him."

Olive laughed and gave Jack's hand a conciliatory squeeze, for Jack's
face had flushed as it usually did when Jean made any such teasing
suggestion. The truth of the matter was that Jack hated to think there
was any real difference between friendship with a boy or a girl, and
Jean, though she only joked about the subject at present, cherished a
very different idea.

"It is much more important that we make ourselves agreeable to Mrs.
Harmon and her daughter," Jack answered, with her nose in the air, as
she sat down in the car, but Jean merely lifted her pretty shoulders
and gave a sly glance at Olive. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Ralston,"
she apologized. "I forgot you were a man-hater, unless one leaves Frank
Kent out of the question." This was a hateful sp