"Come, come!" cried Martha, appearing on the threshold, "get yourselves dressed, the whole of you. Don’t use up all your joy at the first go-off. Leave some to spread over the rest of the time. Ma’s goin’ to stop, you know. Besides—we can’t keep Miss Claire waitin’." "In my da’," observed Ma thoughtfully, "it wouldn’t ’a’ been thought well of, for a lady like that to be la’nchin’ out, just before——" "It’s not my picnic," Martha interrupted. "I said all I could to pervent it in the first place. But her heart’s fixed, an’ I couldn’t say her no, ’specially when Lord Ronald said he saw no harm, an’d go along too." "Well, if _he_ sees no harm—and is goin’ along too——" Ma murmured, as if her consent were to be gained on no other grounds. "Certaintly," said Martha. Everything was in readiness in and about the trim little _Moth_, when Claire Ronald appeared on the dock. "Where’s Mr. Frank?" Mrs. Slawson asked. "He got a message late last night from Boston, about some stuff for the electric-plant. They’ve sent it on, and he had to go to Burbank to examine it, so, in case it wasn’t right, it could be shipped straight back. He said it would save time and cartage, and he wants the work put through as soon as possible." "Then, o’ course we’ll put off our trip!" "Oh, no!" "Did he say we could go, an’ him not here to go along too?" "No—but——" "Then, I guess we’ll call it off." Claire’s mouth set, in quite an uncharacteristic way. "No, indeed! We’ll _go_! We couldn’t have a better morning." "Well, I do’ know, but I wisht I had my long-handled feather-duster here to brush away some o’ them flims o’ dust off’n the ceilin’." "Why, those are darling little clouds!" Miss Claire exclaimed reproachfully. "When the sun gets high, it will draw them out of sight entirely, and the sky will be as clear as crystal." "It’s as you think, not as I do," Mrs. Slawson rejoined. "If you’re shooted, I’m shot!" "In with you, children. Steady now!" commanded Claire. Martha being already at the wheel, her husband had only to stow Mrs. Ronald and the girls safely amidships, see Sammy stationed in the stern in charge of the rudder-ropes, release the boat from its moorings, and _The Moth_ was ready for flight. "Take care of yourselves!" he called after them. "Sure!" Martha shouted back, and they were off. Now she was fairly in the line of having her own way, Claire was radiant. "The idea of finding fault with this day!" she taunted laughingly. "Why, I couldn’t have made it better, myself!" "Why don’t those birds fly up in the sky, mother?" asked Francie. "What makes ’em fly so low down, right over the water?" "They are gulls," Mrs. Ronald answered, as if that explained the mystery. It was a tremendous surprise to find the blue heron a bird instead of "a delicatessen."