Ellen laughed. “I think there spoke your grandmother. Don’t you like being informal? I thought you did. Caro is a dear, a sort of primrose-on-the-river’s-brim person, but overflowing with good-will. The whole family are my best friends, excepting dear Jeremy Todd, of course, and because of that you are their friend, too. The boys are just nice, everyday boys. Frank tries to be grown up sometimes, but the others are nothing but playfellows, and we all have mighty good times together.” “It all sounds very refreshing, so if you think it will be all right I’ll be glad to go,” Mabel decided. Therefore Caro had her triumph, and no one could say that it was a disappointing evening. Caro charged each boy separately that he was not to “sit up and pay compliments,” but must make it as jolly as possible. “Please don’t be stiff,” she begged. “Tell funny stories, and if it helps to break the ice you may jolly me all you choose.” And the boys obeyed her to the letter, so that Mabel said she had never laughed so much in all her life, and that she wouldn’t have missed that supper for the world. “I am so tired of bridge parties and the grown-up doings that Gran loves to force me into. She is a perfect dear, and adores me, but she is, oh, so conventional and I get so tired of _p_’s and _q_’s; that is why I long to get away to more simplicity this summer.” “Have you ever been to Beatty’s Island?” Ellen inquired. “Once, but only for a week, and that when I was a little girl, but I remember how fascinating a place it seemed to me then.” This talk took place while the two were putting on their wraps; then Caro appeared, and the subject was dropped, for not a word was to be spoken to others of the summer plans till they were really settled. Frank and Clyde saw the girls home, when they parted, not to meet again till the next morning. “I’ll come over right after breakfast,” Mabel promised. “Please don’t settle anything till I get there,” after which rather cryptic remark only goodnights were said. CHAPTER XIV WHERE THE SUMMER WAS SPENT It was with difficulty that Ellen refrained from pouring forth the next morning the eager question, Are we going? And that she might not yield to the temptation she jabbered away while she was helping with breakfast, and gave a detailed account of the doings of the night before. Once in a while Miss Rindy gave her a quizzical look, but made no reference to the matter of such great interest to both of them. They had just risen from the table when in rushed Mabel. “I couldn’t wait another minute,” she cried breathlessly. Then dropping on her knees at Miss Rindy’s feet and clasping her hands pleadingly, she exclaimed, “Please, dear, good lady, don’t keep me in suspense any longer. Tell me that you’re not going to turn me down, but that you are going.” “Going? Where?” answered Miss Rindy teasingly with the same quizzical smile she had given Ellen. “To Beatty’s Island.”