“NOW do we do it?” asked Mary Jane’s eager little voice; “this is to-day!”

“Sure enough it is,” said Mrs. Merrill, sleepily. She looked over to Mary Jane’s bed and saw that a certain young person was wide awake and was sitting up straight and tall in her bed which stood right in the path of the sunshine.

“Yes it is, Mother,” added Mary Jane, fearful that her mother wasn’t really waked up yet; “see the sun? And you know this is the day when the surprise comes. Do we have it now?”

“Dear me, no,” said Mrs. Merrill, “how could we? See, Alice is sound asleep and none of us are dressed and the surprise is for three folks—three folks who are in this room.”

“Don’t worry about Alice,” said Mary Jane gayly; “I’ll get her up!” And with that threat she jumped out of bed and pulled the light covers off her sister. “Come on, Alice,” she cried; “you can sleep at home! Let’s get up and do the surprise.”

“Will I like it, Mother?” asked Alice and, luckily, she was too interested in the surprise to mind that the covers had been pulled off.

“Will you?” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill. “You just wait and see! You’ve been wanting to do this very thing for years and years and years.”

“Then let’s get dressed quick,” said Alice; “who’s going to tub first, Mary Jane?”

“Not too fast there, my dears,” said Mrs. Merrill; “the surprise doesn’t come till eleven o’clock.”

“MOTHER!” exclaimed both girls as though in one breath. And Mary Jane added, “Do we have to wait all that time?”

“Well,” said Mrs. Merrill practically, as she glanced at her watch, “I wouldn’t call that such a hopelessly long time if I were you. It’s after seven now and nobody’s even started to dress. Of course you don’t want any breakfast,” she added teasingly, “but—”

“Of course we do, you mean, Mother,” laughed Alice; “I hope the surprise won’t interfere with eating—I wouldn’t like that.”

“Well then,” continued Mrs. Merrill, “if we have to dress and eat and maybe take a little walk to look at the shops and maybe do something else I know we could do—and it’s nice, too—I think it’s a pretty good thing the surprise doesn’t come till eleven.”

When the girls sat down to the breakfast table a half an hour later they were glad they had plenty of leisure to enjoy their meal for such fruit, such fish and such delicious Southern biscuit they never had eaten before.

“I just wish there was two of me, one named Mary and one named Jane,” said Mary Jane, as she eyed the plate of biscuits and the honey regretfully, “’cause then one of me could eat some more. But seeing I’m just one all together, I can’t!”

“I think it’s time for a walk anyway,” said Mrs. Merrill. “You know we didn’t have a chance to look at all those nice little shops yesterday and that’s sure to be fun.”

And it was. The girls and their mother too, enjoyed poking about in the little sidewalk shops that lined the main street and they saw many pretty things they thought of taking home to Grandmother Hodges or some friend.

“Mother!” exclaimed Alice suddenly, “see that clock? It’s only quarter before ten and the surprise doesn’t come till eleven. How are we going to wait all that time?” “We’re not,” said Mrs. Merrill, as she made a sudden plan; “we’re going swimming.”

“Swimming!” exclaimed Mary Jane; “where’s the lake?”

“Wait and see,” replied Mrs. Merrill and she led the way back to their hotel. Mary Jane supposed they must be going back for bathing suits but not so. They didn’t go to their room; they went down a long hallway and up some stairs and along another hall. And by that time, Mary Jane heard noises that sounded exactly like the sounds folks make when they are in swimming and having a jolly time.

“Why, Mother!” she said in amazement, “do they keep the swim in the house down here?”

“Sounds like it, doesn’t it?” answered Mrs. Merrill and she stopped at a window long enough to buy three tickets, one pink and two blue. “Sounds exactly like it—let’s look.” And she led them through a doorway.

Such a sight as the girls saw then, they never had imagined! In a great room, surrounded with balconies on which folks walked and danced and played, was a large tank of beautifully clear water. And in this tank some fifty or more folks were swimming and playing. At one end the children played and swam and at the other end the big folks who evidently could swim better or walk in deeper water were enjoying themselves.

Mary Jane took a long breath as she looked in amazement about her, then she said, “Come on, Mother! Let’s do it too!”

“Oh, may we?” exclaimed Alice rapturously; “will they let us?”

“That’s what our tickets are for,” explained Mrs. Merrill. “And we dress right down in these nice dressing rooms at this end.” Five minutes later the two girls, with their mother close behind, were gingerly stepping into the water as it lapped on the marble steps at the end of the pool. Mary Jane anxiously watched the first touch of the water, then a happy expression came over her face and she exclaimed, “It isn’t cold and it isn’t hot, Mother. It’s just like I am.”

Of course Mary Jane didn’t know how to swim but both Alice and Mrs. Merrill could swim a little and they took turns holding Mary Jane’s chin and showing her how it was done. Mary Jane had no trouble getting her feet up—she got them up so far out of the water that her swimming was more splashing than swimming but it was fun for them all just the same. Nobody thought a bit about time till suddenly Alice looked at the great clock that was at one end of the pool.

“Mother!” she cried, “it’s quarter to eleven!” “Goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill; “we’ll have to fly for they’ll be out in front promptly at eleven.”

“Who’ll be?” asked Mary Jane.

“Wait and see,” teased Mrs. Merrill as she drippingly made her way up the steps and toward the dressing rooms.

Nobody took long to primp that time and at five minutes to eleven they were leaving the Casino.

“That’s plenty of time,” said Alice comfortably.

“Well, none too much,” said Mrs. Merrill doubtfully, “because I have to go up to the room and change my skirt.”

“Why, Mother,” said Alice, “that’s a nice one you have on.”

“Just so,” laughed Mrs. Merrill, “too nice. Let’s see, have you both your gingham bloomers on this morning—I forgot to notice. Yes, you have. Then you don’t need to change. You may wait for me here.” And she hurried off toward the elevator.

Soon she was back, wearing an old denim skirt that the girls didn’t remember ever seeing. They thought it an awfully queer looking thing but had no time to ask questions because she hurried them right out through the garden.

Through the garden, past the hedges and there—right by the leafy gate—all saddled and bridled and ready to go, stood three of the prettiest little ponies the girls had ever seen!

“Oh! I know! I know! I know!” shouted Alice; “we’re going to take a pony ride.”

“Goody! Goody! Goody! I’m glad I’m me!” cried Mary Jane and she danced up and down and clapped her hands so hard that the man who was holding the ponies laughed and laughed.

“So you really think it will be fun?” asked Mrs. Merrill, happily, as both girls, with never a thought that they were on the street, nearly smothered her with a great bear hug; “well, I think so too. So let’s be off. See, the ponies are pawing to go.”

First they decided which pony Mary Jane should ride. The groom put her on one, but he seemed most too big so she was changed to another. Then Alice was lifted up onto hers.

“Don’t bother about me,” said Mrs. Merrill, “I can manage very well with this stone. Please start off with the girls.” So the groom trotted after the girls whose ponies were walking briskly toward the market place.When Mrs. Merrill caught up with them, she suggested that they turn south, down the quiet, narrow street at the right, as the main street seemed too crowded for even safe ponies when they were ridden by folks who had never been pony-back before. So they rode a few blocks past quaint old Spanish houses and gardens—which the girls didn’t even glance at!—then east past the old barracks and south to the open country. By the time they had ridden a couple of miles the girls were getting “on to” the knack of sitting straight and of holding their reins and guiding their steeds, so the groom suggested that they go west, around the village and ride around the old fort at the north.

“Can you canter, Miss?” he asked Alice, who was riding very well for a novice.

The pony must have caught the word for he hurried off and Alice answered over her shoulder, “I-I-I did-d-n’t-t know-ow it b-b-but I-I-I c-c-can!”

Mary Jane’s pony, seeing his mate start off so gayly, thought he must be left behind so he started cantering too—much to Mary Jane’s dismay.

“Whoa! Please whoa!” shouted Mary Jane with more politeness than success. The pony paid no attention to her! He cantered along rapidly a half a block and then, spying a bit of choice green in a vacant lot, turned suddenly in and began to eat.

“Hold on, dear!” called Mrs. Merrill reassuringly, as she hurried up behind her little girl; “hold on and you’ll be all right.”

“I’m a-holdin’,” replied Mary Jane breathlessly; “when I go riding I don’t let him leave me, ’deed I don’t!” and she clutched at the lines with all her might. But evidently the pony had had no thought of running away. He liked his eating so much that it took a hard pull on the lines by the groom to make him raise his head and start on again.

For a little while the groom rode close by Mary Jane and held on to the lines and Mrs. Merrill rode ahead with Alice. But the pony behaved so very well that soon Mary Jane held her own reins again and proudly rode all around the fort and back to the hotel.

“Oh, that was fun!” exclaimed Alice with a sigh of pure joy and satisfaction as she was lifted off her pony.

“I think I’d like to ride every day,” said Mary Jane; “I like a pony that runs and eats and takes me riding. Do they have ponies other places?” And then, as Mrs. Merrill paid the groom and led the girls back to the hotel, Mary Jane added, “Now what do we do next?”