"Why, Douglas, Helen has just been play-acting at being poor. She has no idea of its being a permanency," and Nan filled the funnel again with oil and began to turn her crank with vigor. "But what are we to do? I am not going to White Sulphur and I am not going to make my debut--that's sure. I have never disobeyed mother that I can remember, but this time I shall have to. I don't know what I am to say about the trip to the White. Helen is saying she has helped to earn the money and she means to spend her share giving poor mumsy a little fun after her tiresome long journey on the water. I wish we had never told her we were able to put something in the bank last month. It was precious little and Helen's share would not keep them at White Sulphur more than two or three days. Helen thinks I am stingy and mother thinks I am stubborn and ugly and sunburned--and there's the train with all the week-enders----" and poor Douglas gave a little sob. "And I have turned my wheel until this old mayonnaise is done--just look how beautiful it is! And you, poor old Doug, must just leave it to me, and I'll think up something to keep them here if I have to break out with smallpox and get them quarantined on the mountain." "Oh, Nan! Is there some way out of it without letting father know that mother wants something and cannot have it for lack of money?" "Sure there is! You go powder your nose and put on a blue linen blouse and give a few licks to your pretty hair while I hand over the mayonnaise to Gwen and see that Lucy has counted noses for the supper tables. I've almost got a good reason already for mumsy's staying here aside from the lack of tin, but I must get it off to her with great finesse." "I knew you would help!" and Douglas gave her little sister and the mayonnaise bowl an impartial hug, and then hastened to make herself more presentable, hoping to find favor in the eyes of her fastidious mother. CHAPTER IV ROBERT CARTER'S ASTONISHING GIRLS August, the month for holidays, was bringing much business to the proprietresses of Week-End Camp. Such a crowd came swarming up the mountain now that Lucy, who had set the tables with the assistance of her chum, Lil Tate, and the two sworn knights, Skeeter Halsey and Frank Maury, and had carefully counted noses according to the calculations Nan had made from the applications she had received, had to do it all over to make room for the unexpected guests. "Just kilt-plait the places," suggested Lil. "If they keep on coming we'll have to accordeon-plait 'em," laughed Lucy. "Gee, I'm glad your eats don't land in your elbows!" from Skeeter. "Me, too!" exclaimed Frank. "Miss Helen tipped me a wink that there's Brunswick stew made out of the squirrels we got yesterday. And there is sho' no elbow room at these tables." "Look at 'em swarming up the mountain. Where do you reckon they'll sleep?" asked Lil. "Have to roost in the trees."