The next day went by in a whirl. After seeing the folks off for Europe—Nancy and Rosa went over to Mount Major, where Mr. and Mrs. Fernell took the New York train—the remaining hours seemed too few in which to crowd all the things Rosa had planned to do.

The injured foot was all but forgotten. Never was a girl livelier than Rosa, more enthusiastic nor more expectant—for the great times ahead. But through all her plans, it seemed to Nancy, a vein of mystery ran. For instance, she would talk about losing weight, exercising, dieting and go over the entire formula, when suddenly she would stop short, maybe put her finger to her lips and do something to indicate secrecy.

“It’s all planned and plotted,” she declared, when she finally did agree to take a little walk135 through the special fern path from which the place had received its name, “and won’t daddy and Betty be surprised?”

“What makes you so sure?” asked Nancy. “How ever can you tell that you will lose pounds and pounds?”

“I’m positive,” replied Rosa. “And I just dream of it all the time. Haven’t you ever had that sort of dream?”

“The silly kind? Surely. I had one special pet—and I’m afraid I haven’t banished it yet,” admitted Nancy. “I always wanted to wake up with light golden curls and heavenly blue eyes.”

The shout with which Rosa replied to this must have disturbed every pixy in the woods, for she simply roared!

“And you think that would make you happy! Why, I have blue eyes and curls, and my hair was golden—”

“And you are very pretty!”

“Nancy—Antoinette Brandon!”

“I mean it. You are!”

“Fat me!”

136 “You don’t have to stay fat!”

“I’m not going to!”

“Rosa—Rosalind Fernell!”

“What?”

“Please tell me what you mean.”

“By getting thin?”

“No. How are you going to get thin?”

“Oh.” Rosa swung herself around until she touched the little white birch tree with her finger tips. “You just wait and see!”

“I think that’s rather mean.” Nancy also swung herself around but not in Rosa’s direction. “I do hope you are not going to do anything foolish.”

“That depends. Margot thinks everything I do is foolish.”

“Oh, you know I don’t mean that, Rosa,” Nancy answered quickly. “But, you see, with the folks away we’ve got to be rather—cautious.”

“Now, don’t preach.”

“I don’t know how. Ted says I preach like the umpire at a ball game.”

“You were going to show me his funny letter,”137 put in Rosa, her eagerness to change the subject not even thinly disguised. “I know you have a whole batch of them, too. You know, Dell is just crazy about that sort of thing. She wants to teach kindergarten. Just imagine!”

“She’s very intelligent,” said Nancy, falling back into her own way of saying things which had ever been a part of her home life. “Mother always says we can tell folks by the things they prefer, rather than by the company they keep.”

“You’re over my head, Nancy,” laughed Rosa. “But if that’s true I must be a spiritual skeleton, for I love—thin folks.” Impulsively Rosa had thrown her arms around Nancy, and just as impulsively Nancy had thrown her arms around Rosa, until presently they were dancing through the woods like a couple of sprites—even if Rosa was a trifle out of spritely proportion.

They sang snatches of songs, they tried out different steps and were as free as the air about them; until they heard something queer.

138 “What’s that?” Nancy asked the question first.

“I wonder,” replied Rosa.

“Sounds like someone groaning.”

“A man, don’t you think?” Rosa’s voice had dwindled to a whisper.

Again came the noise interrupting their questions. This time there was no mistaking it. Someone was groaning.

“Let’s run back; we’re away out in Baker’s Woods,” said Rosa with deep concern. “And there’s the road. We’ll take that,” at which both girls turned to the well beaten path.

“Halt!” came the command. “Right about face!”

“Garry Durand!” exclaimed Rosa. “You mean thing!”

“Not to be an old tramp or something?” jeered the boy, who had stepped out into their path and was enjoying the little fright he had given them. “I suppose,” he went on, “you are disappointed. A real bandit would have been more fun.”

“Now, Gar,” scolded Rosa, “you know a139 lot better than that. We were just wondering where you and Dell had been keeping yourselves.”

“Like fun you were, just wondering. We’ve been watching you dance. What was that? A new one?”

“We?” queried Rosa.

“Yes. Come on, Paul; get introduced.”

At this there stepped from behind a big tree, another young man—no doubt Paul.

“This is Paul Randolph,” said Gar, “Miss Brandon and the famous Rosa—”

But Rosa cut that short. “The idea,” she protested, “of you peeping.”

“We weren’t, really,” defended Paul. “We just came along. Our car went dry and we were walking back.”

“Then, we’ll forgive you,” Nancy managed to say. She was losing the natural self-consciousness which had at first been difficult to overcome. Coming from the home of her devoted mother and darling Ted into the confused surroundings of Rosa, this was easy to understand.

140 As she spoke Paul stepped up to her, and they started off in the direction of home. Rosa was ahead with Gar and she, it appeared, was not in agreement with him. He argued and she protested.

Instantly his remark about Nancy coming just in time to save Rosa from some mysterious danger, flitted back into Nancy’s mind. It had been said at their very first meeting, but as time wore on, many other things appeared to make it s............