Polly was all in sailor blue, with a distractingly natty little double-breasted coat and great white rolling collar. Her hat swung in her hand, as usual, showing her boyish head of sunny auburn curls, and she carried on a neat chatelaine a silver cup and little clasp-knife, as was the custom in the party. ‘It’s very difficult,’ Polly often exclaimed, ‘to get a dress that will tone down your hair and a hat that will tone up your nose, when the first is red and the last a snub! My nose is the root of all evil; it makes people think I’m saucy before I say a word; and as for my hair, they think I must be peppery, no matter if I were really as meek as Moses. Now there’s Margery, the dear, darling mouse! People look at her two sleek braids, every hair doing just what it ought to do and lying straight and smooth, and ask, “Who is that sweet girl?” There’s something wrong somewhere. I ought not to suffer because of one small, simple, turned-up nose and a head of hair which reveals the glowing tints of autumn, as Jack gracefully says.’ ‘Here they come!’ shouted Jack from the group on the Howards’ piazza. ‘Christopher Columbus, what gorgeousness! The Flamingo, the Dove, and the Blue-jay! Good-morning, young ladies; may we be allowed to travel in the same steamer with your highnesses?’ ‘You needn’t be troubled,’ laughed Bell. ‘We shall not disclose these glories until we reach the camp. But you are dressed as usual. What’s the matter?’ ‘Why, the fact is,’ answered Geoffrey, ‘our courage failed us at the last moment. We donned our uniforms, and looked like brigands, highway robbers, cowboys, firemen,—anything but modest young men; and as it was too warm for ulsters, we took refuge in civilised raiment for to-day. When we arrive, you shall behold our dashing sombreros fixed up with peacock feathers, and our refulgent shirts, which are of the most original style and decoration.’ ‘Aboriginal, in fact,’ said Jack. ‘We have broad belts of alligator skin, pouches, pistols, bowie-knives, and tan-coloured shoes; but we dislike to flaunt them before the eyes of a city public.’ ‘Here they are!’ cried Geoffrey, from the gate. ‘Uncle, and aunt, and Dicky, and—good gracious! Is he really going to take that wretched tan terrier?’ ‘Won’t go without him,’ said Bell, briefly. ‘There are cases where it is better to submit than to fight.’ So the last good-byes were said, and Elsie bore up bravely; better, indeed, than the others, who shed many a furtive tear at leaving her. ‘Make haste and get well, darling,’ whispered the girls, lovingly. ‘Pray, pray, dear Mrs. Howard, bring her down to us as soon as possible. We’ll take such good care of her,’ teased Bell, with one last squeeze, and strong signs of a shower in both eyes. ‘Come, girls and boys,’ said kind Dr. Paul, ‘the steamer has blown her first whistle, and we must be off.’