Indoors, Maida took them to the long closet lined with shelves, lighted by one window and furnished with a small sink, a table and three chairs, which she called the Flower Closet. On the shelves were vases and bowls of all colors and sizes; some high and slender; some squatty and low; of glass and china. For a few minutes conversation languished. The three little girls were all busy making their selection from these receptacles; cutting away too long stems and too heavy foliage; removing thorns. Rosie as usual--her movements were always as swift as lightning--finished her work first. She came into the living room where Maida and Laura--the result of Laura’s idea--were trying bunches of yellow roses in low jars against bunches of pink ones in high ones. “I wish I could get that Silva Burle out of my mind,” Rosie burst out with a sudden return of her irritation. “I keep thinking of her and I get so mad I’d just like to--” “Granny says we can go down to the Pond now,” Arthur called suddenly, popping in the door. “We boys have been lugging the three canoes down to the Magic Mirror and believe me it’s some hot work. Granny says that we must put on our bathing suits here to-day.” Boys and girls raced to their rooms. In a surprisingly brief time they were back again in bathing suits and bathing shoes; the girls with rubber caps in brilliant colors. “Granny says, as Dicky’s the only one that can’t swim, we must all promise to look after him,” Arthur added warningly on their way to the Pond. “I can look after myself,” Dicky remarked huffily. “I’m only telling you what Granny said,” Arthur stated. Apparently Granny had put other responsibilities on him because he went on. “I know you swim in deep water, Rosie, because I’ve seen you, and you too Harold. But how about you Laura?” “Well--I’ll show you,” Laura promised caustically. “You’ll have to,” Arthur told her, “before I’ll let you go over your head.” He turned to Maida. “How about you?” “I’m not a fast swimmer nor a strong one,” Maida declared, “but I am quite accustomed to deep water. I used to go over the side of the yacht with father every morning in the Mediterranean, and I can swim forever without getting tired out.” “All right,” Arthur said. And then, “All in that’s going in!” he shouted suddenly as the jetty came in sight. He burst into a run and the file of children raced after him. Over into the water they went in five tempestuous dives. Only Dicky remained watching them. They came up almost simultaneously. Arthur and Harold, as a matter of natatorial compliment, threw into each other’s faces the mud and weeds they had brought up in their hands. Then they all struck for the middle of the Pond. They swam with varying degrees of speed--Arthur first as became his superior size and strength, his superior skill at all things. Curiously enough Laura, who cut through the water like a thrown knife, kept a close second to him. The others struggled behind, Maida always in the rear.