itself to a bunch of keys. Aunt Abigail had been invited to chaperon the
party and had accepted by telegraph. Peggy's father had made an excuse
for a business trip to New York, and had brought his small granddaughter
home with him, full of the liveliest anticipation regarding her summer.
And Priscilla had received a twenty-page letter from Claire Fendall,
declaring that it would be perfectly heavenly to spend two months
anywhere in Priscilla's society, and that nothing in the world could
possibly prevent her from coming.

There had been no time during that week for lounging on porches, or
swinging in hammocks. Afternoon naps were sternly eliminated from the
daily program, and the day began early enough to satisfy the originator
of the maxim which gives us to understand that early rising is
synonymous with health, wealth and wisdom. Trunks were packed, amid
prolonged discussion as to what to take and what to leave behind. The
mothers, as is the way of mothers the world over, insisted on warm
flannels, and wraps, rubbers and rain-coats, to provide for all extremes
of weather. Peggy's suggestion that the country was a fine place for
wearing out old clothes, had been received with enthusiasm, and faded
ginghams and lawns of a bygone style, far outnumbered the new frocks
with which the Terrace girls had made ready for the season.

The June day appointed for the departure dawned with such radiant
brightness that all along the Terrace it was accepted as a good omen.
Early and hurried breakfasts were in order in a number of homes. Dorothy
viewing her oatmeal with an air of disfavor, launched into the
discussion of a subject which had occupied her thoughts for some time.

"Aunt Peggy, if I should see a bear up in the country, do you s'pose I'd
be 'fraid? I'd jus' say to him, 'Scat, you old bear!'"

"Eat your oatmeal, Dorothy." Peggy's voice betrayed that her excitement
was almost equal to Dorothy's own. "There aren't any bears where we're
going."

"Ain't there?" Dorothy's tone indicated regretful surprise. "I guess God
jus' forgot to make 'em," she sighed, and fell to watching her
grandmother's efforts to make the oatmeal more tempting, by adding
another sprinkling of sugar to a dish already honey-sweet.

But even such a disappointment as this could not continue in the face of
the thrilling nearness of departure. The trunks had gone to the station
the night before, and now upon the porches of the various houses,
suitcases