Dalton had gone to the town on the railroad, where he had arranged to have his mail sent for a while, writing to the lawyer again and telling him to direct important letters to the general delivery there for the present. Sarita had a headache and was lying down for the afternoon, looked in upon occasionally by Elizabeth, who was at her usual occupation of sketching or painting. Beth ascribed Sarita’s headache to some cheap candy which the girls had bought at the village and was hoping that a little soreness about Sarita’s throat would not amount to anything.

Leslie, who had been in the ocean earlier in the day with Elizabeth, was a bit of bright color on the beach in a red frock and sweater to match. She was easily seen from the launch, where figures waved at her and pointed toward the dock, a small one at the end of the town nearest the Secrest headland, as Peggy had begun to call it.

They were beckoning her to come, Leslie saw; and making a pile of her shells, for gathering them was her latest occupation, she ran toward the little dock. There, before she arrived the pretty launch was bobbing up and down inside the breakwater.

“Come on for a cruise, Leslie!” called Peggy. “It’s grand this afternoon. We’ll bring you back in time for anything.”

Jack was out on the rough boards to help Leslie inside of the launch. It was really not necessary to accept or refuse, only to climb in.

A large, dark woman looked critically at Leslie and Leslie found no sympathy in her eyes when, after she was seated, she met her glance. “Madame Kravetz, this is Leslie Secrest. Madame teaches me, Leslie. Where is Sarita?”

“She has a headache and Beth is hoping that it doesn’t mean tonsilitis. Sarita wore a thin dress and forgot her sweater when we went out last night, but Beth is dosing her and perhaps it will not amount to anything.” Leslie was wondering a little about Peggy’s governess. She did not look French, and her name was certainly not French. She might be one of those Swiss who are part French and part German. Leslie did not like her expression.

Jack was running the launch. Out to sea they started; then, after a time, they made for the bay, which was better for launches than the sea, which was growing rough. For a while they cruised around among the fishing boats and a few pretty sail-boats until Peggy directed Jack to head for Steeple Rocks.

“Take Leslie through the channel, Jack, and show her our little harbor in our own bay.”

Madam Kravetz started to say something, but closed her thin lips rather tightly instead. Leslie thought that she had been about to make an objection, but she was having too good a time to think much about their chaperon.

The channel was interesting. Jack was careful between rocks at the entrance, but the distance widened as they proceeded. At their right a narrow islet with high rocks kept the force of the ocean from the channel and other rocks made a breakwater for the Ives’ harbor, “Ives Bay.”

“People are often afraid when we take them through the channel for the first time,” said Peggy, “especially if they have heard the stories about Pirates’ Cove. But we tell them that the channel is deep and safe even for a boat of fair size, if they veer away a little from the rocks on the Cove side.”

Peggy nodded toward the rocks at their left over which tossing waters left their spray. “Dad showed Jack where to go and where not to go,” she added. “I just love Steeple Rocks, Leslie, and I wish that you would come here a lot.”

Leslie saw that Madame Kravetz looked annoyed. She almost turned her back upon the girls and looked out over the boat’s edge with a frown. “These are Beth’s ‘Cathedral Rocks,’” Leslie replied to Peggy. “She loves them, more than any of us. Beth is an artist, you know. But we all love to look at them and I like any rock on the coast. They beat sand for beauty any day, though I will say that for bathing, you may give me a sandy beach.”

Little waves lapped the shore near the dock where Jack skilfully brought their boat. Leslie felt thrilled, as she confided to Sarita later, to see a pretty sailboat tied there, together with other boats of various sorts. Dear me, they could have everything they wanted, she supposed.

In response to Leslie’s exclamation over the number of boats, Peggy said that her father had a large yacht, too, that had to be docked in the other bay. “We wondered if that larger dock were not yours,” said Leslie. “I think that you are a very lucky girl, Peggy, to have so much fun.”

“But after all, Leslie, it’s people that make fun and good times, not things, or even places, though I like to cruise.” Peggy frowned and looked thoughtful, while Leslie wondered again. But now Jack was offering to help the ladies out of the boat “What are you going to do now?” asked Madame Kravetz.

“Oh, I want to show Leslie all over Steeple Rocks. Jack and I have been intending to explore them more ourselves, but we haven’t had time, with all the company we have had.”

“No,—and you haven’t time now,” coldly said Peggy’s governess. “Your mother will expect to meet your friend, since you have brought her here; and then it will be necessary to see her home before long, if her sister does not worry about what has become of her.”

“Oh, you always think up such horrid things, Madame K,” rather pettishly Peggy said. “All right, though, for I want Mother to see Leslie.”

It was quite a climb to reach the top of the headland and then, indeed, they were only at the beginning of the higher mass known as Steeple Rocks. But good steps had been made, with a strong railing, that made the ascent easy to the young people. Madame Kravetz, also, climbed easily.

When they reached the top of the steps, they walked from the upper platform to a rocky expanse which was evidently the rear of the Steeple Rocks garden, for presently they came among little trees, planted with decorative intent, and Leslie found herself within a formal garden. Flowers were blossoming and Leslie would have liked to linger, had not Peggy hurried her on to show her the house, an immense affair, of how many rooms Leslie could only guess. There were gables and ells and corners and masses of stone. There were chimneys and bay windows and balconies. From the rear they went around to the front, past a porte-cochere, where a big car was standing.

The entrance was particularly beautiful, Leslie thought, with wide steps and pillars. Great flags of stone made the porch floor. Light wicker chairs stood about and a long wicker couch was piled with pretty cushions in gay colors. “And they don’t want us to have even a log cabin!” Leslie thought, in a moment of resentment.

But no one could be resentful with Peggy, who was the most hospitable creature imaginable. Jack, too, felt the responsibility of making Leslie have a good time. Peggy took Leslie to her own pretty room first, where both girls made themselves a little more presentable. Leslie was glad that her dress and sweater were respectable, since she was to meet Mrs. Ives. Gathering shells on the beach had not improved the appearance of her hands, which were now washed with Peggy’s pet soap, fragrant and soothing. Then they joined Jack on the porch again, to find him at a little table behind tall glasses of delicious lemonade and a dish of cakes. This was almost better than camping! But never mind. The Secrests, too, would have a house one of these days!

Through the trees they could see a tennis court where active figures were playing and other people were about. White, red, blue, orange, all sorts of colors, had a share in the sport costumes. “It’s doubles,” said Peggy. “There, it’s over. Now they will be coming in, I think.”

In a few minutes small groups, perhaps a dozen people in all, sauntered toward the house, Mrs. Ives hurrying on before the rest. “That’s Mother in the white,” said Peggy, going to the steps to stop her.

“Oh, Mother, stop a minute, won’t you? Leslie’s here.”

Mrs. Ives halted and turned toward Leslie and Jack. “Yes, Peggy, if Jack will order some lemonade and cakes for us all. That is what I was hurrying for. So this is Leslie?” She cordially extended a hand to Leslie, who rose and stepped forward to greet her, rather surprised to find her so young, in appearance, at least, with her bobbed hair and youthful dress. Referring to their kindness to Peggy, Mrs. Ives renewed her invitation.

But Leslie saw that her hostess was not speaking very seriously. “Thank you, Mrs. Ives,” she said. “We were glad to be invited, but there have been things to hinder us (indeed there had), and then, we are scarcely prepared to mingle with your guests. We came to camp, you know.”

“That will make no difference,” cordially said Mrs. Ives, “but perhaps you will best enjoy the beach party that Peggy is planning. Peggy, you arrange it and have what you want. Excuse me, Miss Leslie, I must go on.”

Although Leslie felt that Mrs. Ives pleasant cordiality was not assumed, she saw that her mind was wandering toward her older guests during the time of their brief conversation. One of the ladies was waiting for her and both went into the large room which Leslie had noticed as she passed in the hall. Sounds of music presently reached them.

“Now that’s over,” coolly Peggy remarked, “and we’ve gotten rid of Madame. Jack, I want to take Leslie to my room and talk with her a little bit. Will you be ready to take her back in the launch when we come down?”

“I surely will, but you’d better make it snappy if you don’t want to have Miss Beth worrying over what has become of her wandering sister.”

Leslie looked at her watch. There was time for a little visit only. She followed Peggy back into the attractive room with its comfortable, summer fittings.

So near the sea, the house was suitably screened from the strong winds by the pile of headland rocks with their two towers. Peggy, however, considered this a decided drawback, since there was no good view of the sea from any of the windows. “But Dad said that I would be glad sometimes not to be blown away or think that I was going to sail off with the house! He wanted it close up against the rocks, and you can see for yourself that part of the house fairly joins them. Dad has his office there and his own little library. He’s a shivery sort of man, anyhow, used to Florida in the winters, you know.”

“How would I know, sweet Peggy?”

“Probably you wouldn’t,” laughed Peggy. “That is what my own father used to call me, ‘sweet Peggy,’ after the old song.”

“Oh, then, Mr. Ives is really not your father,” said the surprised Leslie. But that accounted for some of Peggy’s rather disrespectful speeches.

“No, and I ought to be ashamed of myself for not liking him better. I can have anything I want and he doesn’t care. O Leslie, I wish that you would let me talk to you about things sometimes! You are all so happy, and we aren’t, very, here. I don’t know just what is the matter, either!”

“Why, of course you may talk to me, Peggy! It seems to me that you might be happy enough, a nice, pretty girl with everything to make you happy. Why, child, we’ve had real trouble,—well, I suppose that you have been through that, too, losing your father.”

“Yes, though I was pretty small, then. Haven’t you very much to live on, either?”

Peggy was quite frank in her question, but Leslie, to whom having money or not having it was only an agreeable or disagreeable incident, did not mind. “Not so very much, Peggy,” she answered, “but enough to get along and more than some people. Then we are always expecting to do and be something wonderful, you see!” Leslie was laughing a little, but Peggy understood.

“Perhaps that’s it,” Peggy said. “Nobody here wants to do anything but have a good time. If I had been allowed to have one of my girl friends here this summer, I suppose I would have been satisfied. But when Mother invited Jack, even, Dad made a terrible to-do about it and almost said that he should not come; but he had already been invited. Dad said that he did not want any ‘curious boys’ around. Leslie, there is something funny going on and I wish I could find out what it is. I’m pretty sure that Mother doesn’t know either, and she worries. She has been worried ever since that old foreigner came to be a sort of secretary or something to Dad. He manages his business, Dad says sometimes. He’s a Count. Madame Kravetz belongs to the nobility, too.”

“From what country?” asked Leslie, interested.

“Russia, I think, though she claims to be French. Old Count Herschfeld is supposed to be Austrian. You’ll see him sometime. He has fishy eyes and is very straight and tall and pale, and has a slit for a mouth, and walks like a soldier. Probably he was some sort of a general in the war.”

“If I were you, Peggy, I wouldn’t worry over anything that you can’t help. You will be able to enjoy this wonderful place. It must be great to be in Florida for the winters, too.”

“I suppose it is. I never thought about it. Mother married Dad when I was about six years old. He was nicer then than he is now. We travel so much that I have a teacher with me all the time. But I heard Mother talking to Dad about not putting me in school, so I suppose that boarding school will be the next thing for me.”

“Do you like your governess?”

“I do not. To myself I call her ‘Crabby.’ Kravetz, Kravy, Crabby, you see. Sometime I will forget before company!”

“Better not,” smiled Leslie. “But if they let you, suppose you stay around with us a good deal this summer. You and Sarita and I will be a sort of—‘triumvirate,’ you know. Dal will be terribly busy pretty soon, building our log cabin, and we’ll have to run our launch half the time without him, and fish in the small boat, too. He is taking most of his fun now, he says, though, of course, he will like to build the house, too. He is crazy about the woods and about making things and having a house of our own. We sold our house when Elizabeth got a place to teach in a bigger town only a few miles away.”

“I wish Elizabeth taught me,” said Peggy. “I could learn more if I liked the teacher and was sure that what she said was true.”

Leslie was quite impressed by that statement. She had not liked the face of the governess either.

“I’m going to be real good and see if they will not let me off from lessons, though Mother said that Madame Kravy needed the money and the place. But she could stay just the same. Dad said the other day that he needed some one ‘to help him in his office.’”

Leslie wondered what his business could be that he carried it on in this remote spot. But he might be some big executive who had to keep in touch with affairs and write “letters and things.”

Busily they talked. Peggy thanked Leslie for asking her to be a member of a “triumvirate” and said that if Sarita did not mind she surely would belong. “Jack is sort of lost, too, without anybody of his own age. Perhaps Dalton would not mind if he hung around when he was building.”

“Well, Peggy, I think that I ought to tell you something, if you promise not to say a word to Elizabeth about it. You see Beth was all used up when school was out, and if she can only have a little while to be happy and get strong again, why then it won’t make so much difference what happens, and I suppose that she will have to know about this. Now it might interfere with the ‘triumvirate.’”

“Tell, me. I’ll not say a word. I can’t imagine what it is.”

“I’m sure you never could. You see, Peggy, your father may not want you to come to see us, or have us out here, or anything. Was he there when your mother sent word for us to come?”

“No.”

“I thought so.” Then Leslie gave the details of their first meeting with Mr. Ives, summing up the case quite clearly. “So, you see, if Mr. Ives wants to get us off the land, and we stand up for what we think are our rights, it may not be so very pleasant all around. We’d always like you, Peggy, but it might be embarrassing for you to have much to do with us.”

“It would be a great deal more pleasant than not to have anything to do with you. Little Peggy will try diplomacy. I’ll find out what Dad is up to; but if I don’t, and the position in the triumvirate is still open, I’ll fill it, you can be sure.”

“Well, then, Peggy, don’t do anything you oughtn’t for our sakes.”

“How about little Peggy’s sake, Leslie?”

“Same thing. But if your mother lets you, you will certainly be welcome on the Sea Crest and in the Eyrie pretty soon.”

“When shall we have the first meeting of the ‘triumvirate’?”

“Say to-morrow.”

“To-morrow it is.”

The faintly ticking little wrist watches announced to the girls who glanced at them that they must bring the visit to a close. They ran downstairs and Leslie strolled out, while Peggy hunted up her cousin. In a few minutes the three were going down the steps to the Ives’ launch, which carried them past the foaming rocks and into the bay toward Leslie’s homing spot, the little rude dock at the base of the Secrest headland. Pirates’ Cove looked just as interesting and deadly as ever, as they passed it. The Sea Crest bobbed up and down gently in recognition of the other boat, and Jack gallantly handed Leslie to a safe foothold and saw her up the more difficult steps, before he took the wheel from Peggy and waved a goodbye. The little launch chugged away. Leslie stopped at the top to lean upon a rock and watch the boat and her new friends. What a queer household there was at Steeple Rocks. Mr. Ives was not Peggy’s father. She was glad of that. She was sure that others there beside Madame Kravetz were foreign. The lady who waited for Mrs. Ives and joined her had spoken to her in French, probably because Mrs. Ives knew French; for she heard the guest “jabber” something else to another lady that followed them.

There was something queer going on, Peggy had said. Of course. It was that, perhaps, that made Mr. Ives try to send them all away. Leslie’s thoughts were busy with impressions received at Steeple Rocks.