"Twelve o'clock?"
"No, about one," Mollie answered. "We couldn't possibly eat before
then."
Allen had been talking to Betty in an undertone, and now he broke into
the conversation with: "Betty says she wants to see our camp. Who cares
to go along?"
There was a clamorous assent followed by a faint little protest from
Grace. "Don't you think we had better wash the dishes first?" she asked.
"Oh, hang the dishes!" said Frank, inelegantly. "Remember we are
camping."
"We'll wash them up with the lunch dishes," Betty compromised, then
added, with a sly little glance in Allen's direction: "We'll make the
boys wipe them for us."
CHAPTER XI
A JOLLY TRIP
The girls and the boys, laughingly driving Mrs. Irving before them,
fairly tumbled down the shallow steps in their eagerness to feel the
soft grass under their feet. As Betty said, it was a glorious day, a
typical day in early August, when a soft breeze tempers the heat of the
scorching sun, and sets the trees to murmuring.
The spicy air, sweet with the intoxicating scent of damp, moist earth
and blossoming flowers, went to their heads like wine and they danced
down the path that led through the woods on feet that scarcely touched
the ground.
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