"Hurry up,--we're starving!" they cried; and Alec and Blue Bonnet, responding gaily, dismounted and hastened to the house with the rest, both glad to escape questions in the general hilarity and press of hunger. "Grandmother," said Blue Bonnet later in the day; "I'm worried about Alec." It was just after the siesta, and seeing her grandmother sitting alone in her chosen seat under the magnolia, she had gone out for a chat. They were seldom alone these days. "He does look tired," Mrs. Clyde admitted; "but it is natural he should after that long ride." "It isn't that." Blue Bonnet shook her head. "I'm afraid he's--got something." "Got something?" her grandmother repeated in puzzled surprise. "_Has_ something, if you object to 'got.' Has something the matter with him, I mean,--serious, you know." Then she repeated the conversation she had had with Alec that morning. Mrs. Clyde listened in silence, but her eyes were troubled when Blue Bonnet finished. "It may not be so bad as Alec imagines," she said with a forced hopefulness. "He has been outgrowing his strength, and being overtired, too, makes him despondent." In spite of her words, from that time on Mrs. Clyde was more observant of the boy, and the moment she saw the first signs of fatigue she would make some tactful suggestion for his benefit, relieving him of the necessity of saying he was tired, yet bringing about the possibility of rest. And often with her own hands she would concoct some nourishing dish, hardly so piquant as Gertrudis' red-hot creations, but rather more healthful for a growing boy. Neither she nor Blue Bonnet voiced their fears to the other girls nor to any of the men, but, with a silent understanding, ministered quietly to the frail boy's needs. A few days later the girls crossed the meadow to the pool for their first lesson in swimming. It was an odd little bunch that sat on the bank dabbling their toes in the limpid water. The hastily improvised bathing-suits they wore were of every style and color, and they looked as gay as a flock of parrots in their bright-hued raiment. Blue Bonnet dove off the big boulder in the middle, to the great envy of the others, who only consented to get wet all over after much persuasion and the threat of a forcible ducking. Sarah took the whole thing as seriously as she did most things. "Everybody should learn to swim," she announced authoritatively as she sat contemplating a plunge. "Some day we might have a chance to cross the ocean, and then we'd wish we knew how." "Do you mean to swim across the ocean?" demanded Blue Bonnet wickedly. "Of course not," replied Sarah, unruffled. "But in case of shipwreck, you know, it's well to be prepared. I believe it should be studied as a science,--get the stroke, then do it. It's like bicycle riding, they say: when you once learn how to keep your balance you never forget."