e a good mile from nowhere."

"Oh, just a little farther," begged Cleo; "we want to say we went to
the very end."

"Very well," agreed Jennie, who was plainly enjoying the delightful
sail in the colorful twilight.

"Look!" exclaimed Grace suddenly. "There's someone in wading! Oh!
see, it's our little Mary."

"Sure enough," followed Cleo. "How can she be away down here so late?
Let's call."

"No, wait till we are a little nearer," suggested Grace, thinking
quickly, a call meant for Mary might also be heard by someone else.
"We can row almost up to her."

Pulling their oars with a firm stroke it took but a few minutes to come
within speaking distance of the girl, who now, seeing the approaching
boat, was standing knee deep in a golden path of water.

"Who is she?" asked Jennie, gazing intently at the odd figure, for as
ever Mary wore white, and her heavy braids fell into the big pocket
made of her up-turned skirt. She looked like some elfin sprite painted
in pastels, with all the soft greens of foliage, and the wonderfully
mellow tints of crimsoned gold shed from the sunset, surrounding the
picture and forming an inimitable background.

"Oh, that's our little friend Mary," Cleo replied to Jennie's question.
"She's lovely, and Aunt Audrey knows about her." This last of course
was said to assure Jennie of the propriety of her charges making
friends with the girl in wading.

"Mary! Mary!" called Grace. "Come on for a sail! We have room!"

It was typical of Grace to do a thing like that--to call out the
invitation without consulting anyone, or considering possible
consequences.

"Hello, girls!" came back Mary's response. "I'd love to go--if----"

As Cleo at least expected, there was someone in the background watching
Mary, but the assurance in Mary's voice, that of a new note of courage,
further emboldened Cleo. "Oh come on, Mary," she urged. "We will just
row you around here if you like. Jump in!" Cleo insisted, while Mary,
now clinging to the side of the boat with one hand, depended on the
other to keep her light skirts clear of the water.

"Oh, I am so glad you came," she said. "I did not know just what to
do. I thought I might see some of the boys who would help me. Is this
your mother?" She stopped suddenly, and stared at the astonished
Jennie.

"No, this is Jennie, our friend, our manager," Cleo replied kindly.
"But she is just as safe as a mother; you need not fear to speak before
her