It was only a tall boy in the uniform of the Boy Scouts who was tearing up the steps. But both the old lady and Winona uttered a faint squeal, the old lady because he kissed her, and Winona because she recognized the newcomer. It was Billy Lee, and he was evidently a relative of Winona’s would-be benefactress.

“How are you, auntie, and how’s everything?” he was inquiring genially, with an arm still about her. Winona gazed wildly around, meanwhile, for a hole to crawl into, but there was none. “You see, I’ve come to dinner,” went on Billy cheerfully.

By this time he had swung around, and seen Winona. He took in her whole get-up, earrings, ’kerchief, sagging skirt, checked apron; and, further off, Louise making change energetically in the same regalia. He began to laugh.

“Good for you, Winona!” he said. “Been selling Camp Fire stuff?”

“William!” said his aunt before Winona could answer, “Do you know this—this young person?”

Billy looked embarrassed.

“Oh, say, Winnie, I’m afraid I’ve put my foot in it,” said he. But he went on telling the truth—Billy was unfortunately incapable of doing anything else. At least, it seemed unfortunate to Winona right then. “Why, yes, Aunt Lydia. This is Winona Merriam, who lives next door to us. She’s camping about a mile and a half down the river from us Scouts.”

The old lady turned sharply on Winona.

“Then what makes you masquerade as an Italian peddler?” she asked sharply.

Winona took courage, for though the old lady was cross, she did not seem unforgivingly angry.

“We thought if we dressed up perhaps people would buy things quicker,” she explained. “But we do really need the money very badly, don’t we, Billy?”

“They’re trying to make enough to stay in the woods all August, auntie,” explained Billy. “They’ve all been working like beavers, making things, to do it.”

“I don’t see yet why the bandanna handkerchiefs,” said the old lady tartly. “And you, miss”—to Louise, who had come up—“what did you mean by telling me that you were the eldest of five, and hadn’t slept under a roof for ten days?”

“Because it’s true,” said Louise. “I haven’t—we’re camping. And I am the eldest of five, worse luck! I have to spend my whole time at home setting an example. That’s why I go away to be naughty!”

It was impossible to be angry long with Louise Lane, and the old lady did not seem to want to be angry with Winona. So things straightened themselves out, and actually ended in an invitation to stay to dinner!

“But we’ve nothing but our middy blouses, under these awful things,” protested Winona, “and Mrs. Bryan will be worried if we don’t get home till late.”

“That’s all right,” said Billy’s aunt Lydia, whose name was Lawrence. She was Mrs. Lee’s sister. “I’ll have them send a man down from the dock to tell your Guardian where you are.”

“Oh, then thank you!” said Winona radiantly. But Louise still hesitated.

“Well, what is it?” asked the old lady.

Louise hung her shawl-draped head for a moment, then she flung it back and answered frankly.

“I may want to come peddling again, and if they see us in our camp uniform they’ll know who we are!”

“Great Scott!” cried Billy, beginning to laugh, “You are a queer girl! I say, Aunt Lydia, let her disguise herself some more, if that’s what she wants. Give her some of your clothes, or the chambermaid’s, or somebody’s. Would that be all right, Louise?”

“Why, yes indeed!” said Louise, grinning joyously. “Lead on, Desperate Desmond.”

“I never saw such girls!” said Miss Lawrence. “However, you may as well have your play out. William, get a bellboy to put these goods somewhere. I’ll take these objects of charity to get ready for dinner. Your room’s next suite twelve, the one I have.”

She shepherded the two girls upstairs by the staircase, instead of the elevator, as if she wanted them to be conspicuous.

“Now, remember,” explained she, “you’re two young foreign peddlers that I’m giving a dinner to out of the kindness of my heart. I’m loaning you clothes out of the same thing. So you can go right on peddling if you want to, you with the business instinct—Louise you said your name was? Very well, Louise, you can go on selling your potteries and bead bags after dinner—if you want to. But I want to talk to Winona myself. I don’t know but I still want to adopt her!”

Miss Lawrence left the girls alone when she had shown them to a room, and went to prepare for dinner herself. There was a bathroom next to them, and they made for it—one after another, of course—with gurgles of joy. Winona went first, while Louise was doing her hair, which was so thick and long it took a great deal of time to arrange.

“Isn’t hot water heavenly when you haven’t seen it in a tub for a week and a half?” said Winona, emerging in a borrowed kimono, which she presently passed on to Louise.

“I’ll tell you when I’ve tried,” said Louise, disappearing in her turn into the bathroom. She turned around and poked out her head to say, “Now, remember, we’ve both got to keep on looking as old as we can. We have characters to keep up!”

Winona began to investigate the clothes Miss Lawrence had laid out for them. She did not expect to find anything more exciting than a black silk with a fichu, or something else elderly of that sort. Instead, there lay on the bed two pretty frocks which had certainly been made for girls of their age.

She held them both up against her. They were a little shorter than she usually wore her skirts, both of them, and a little loose. Evidently their owner was of a build somewhere between Winona and Louise. But Louise, when she emerged, was quite pleased at that, for what was short for Winona was long for her, naturally, and carried out the idea of age that she wished to convey. She chose the more elaborate of the two, a green silk, because the other dress was pink, which doesn’t match red hair. But it did match Winona’s brown hair and blue eyes beautifully, and the wide satin sash was very becoming to her. The girls gave their tennis shoes a liberal dose of whitening, and decided that they would have to do. There were stockings to go with the dresses.

When they were done dressing they gazed at each other in admiration.

“I never had as pretty a dress in my life!” said Winona delightedly, surveying the folds of rose-colored organdy that ruffled about her. She reached up as she spoke to fasten back her curls with the shell barrette that usually held them at the back of her neck.

“Glad you like them!” said Miss Lawrence, appearing on the threshold of the next room. “They belong to my niece Nataly—I suppose you know Nataly if you live next door to her—but she hasn’t had them yet. I brought them to her from my trip abroad. Here, Winona, you haven’t any hair-ribbon.”

“I haven’t been wearing any in camp,” said Winona, standing still, however, while Miss Lawrence unclasped the barrette and supplied its place with a rose-colored satin ribbon tied about her head, fillet-fashion.

“That’s the English fashion,” said Miss Lawrence, “wear your hair loose till you’re sixteen or seventeen, then do it all up at once, instead of pulling it up by degrees, as we do here. It’s very becoming, my dear.”

Winona privately felt that it was a little youthful, but she said nothing, and indeed the effect of the shower of curls falling loose from under the ribbon was exceedingly becoming.

Louise, over by the mirror, continued to put pins into her hair, and Miss Lawrence did not try to super-intend her toilet at all, though Louise was getting herself up to look as near twenty as she could.

A knock at the door of the sitting-room, where they went when they were dressed, made them all turn.

“Come in,” said Miss Lawrence.

“It’s me, Billy,” said his voice ungrammatically inside. “I say! What stunning clothes!” he added frankly as he took in the splendor of the girls’ attire.

Winona looked at him rather shyly. The small bag he had carried must have been well packed, for Billy had blossomed out in a tuxedo and long trousers.

“Why,” she said, “I didn’t know you for a minute—you look so grown up!”

“I’ve had long trousers for a year now,” explained Billy, “only I’ve always had on my uniform when you’ve seen me before.”

“Of course, that’s it,” admitted Winona. But she continued to stare, for this tall young gentleman looked about eighteen in his correctly cut clothes, and she felt like such a little girl, looking as Miss Lawrence had made her look. What she did not know was that she was looking her very prettiest, like a girl in a play or a picture, with her flushed cheeks and falling curls and rosy draperies. Miss Lawrence, who seemed to have taken a fancy to her, slipped her arm through Winona’s, leaving Louise to follow with Billy.

Louise was not impressed in the least by Billy’s grandeur. It took a good deal to impress Louise Lane, and one suit of evening clothes and a large hotel weren’t likely to do it.

Winona did not look to the right or left as they entered the big dining-room, but she knew Louise had seen something, for she heard a little squeal of delight close behind her. They were scarcely seated when Louise burst out:

“What do you suppose they’ve done, Winnie? I don’t know whether it was you or Billy, Miss Lawrence, but thank you both, anyway. Winona, our things are all set out in that little sun-parlor sort of place where everybody can see them, and there’s a bellboy looking after them. I saw him selling a bead belt!”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” said Billy, looking embarrassed. “The management lets people use that room for displays, don’t they, Aunt Lydia?”

He did not explain that he had tipped the head bellboy liberally to have the things looked after, and it never occurred to either of the girls till long after.

Winona secretly decided that Nataly couldn’t be as trying as the girls thought her, if this was the kind of a brother she had. So she smiled brilliantly at Miss Lawrence and Billy, and felt very happy indeed over the bright lights and the elaborate dinner and the orchestra and pink dress.

And then something occurred to her. This was Nataly’s dress, a brand-new present-dress, and so was the one Louise had on. And they were getting all the first wear out of them, would Nataly like it?

She looked up, directly, and said what she thought.

“Miss Lawrence, will Nataly mind our wearing her clothes?”

Louise answered before Miss Lawrence had a chance. “You know perfectly well she will, Win. Why, she nearly had a fit when I climbed into a clean middy of hers day before yesterday. And these are uncommonly glad and happy rags we have on.”

“If she doesn’t like it,” explained Miss Lawrence with perfect clearness, “she knows just what she can do. My niece Nataly is a spoiled young person if ever there was one. But don’t worry, my dear”—for Winona was looking distressed at the idea of Nataly’s objection—“I’ll see that she’s perfectly satisfied.”

So Winona did not worry. She talked instead, and told Miss Lawrence everything she wanted to know about Camp Karonya and what they did there.

“It’s a miniature community,” said Miss Lawrence approvingly. “I wish they’d had them when I was a girl. I suppose you’ll have a float at the lake carnival, since you’re such enterprising young persons!”

“Oh, is there going to be a lake carnival?” asked both girls in a breath. Miss Lawrence nodded.

“Why, didn’t you know?” asked Billy. “The people here in Wampoag have them every year. They give prizes for the best decorated float and canoe. I don’t know whether it’s a cash prize this year or a cup.”

“I do hope it’s a cash prize!” breathed Louise fervently, while Winona’s mind began to work at the ways and means for making and decorating a Camp Fire float, and the best way to get it up the lake.

“It would be lovely if we could do it,” she said. “When is it to be?”

Billy pulled a little calendar out of the one small and concealed pocket that his clothes allowed him, and studied it.

“A week from to-morrow,” he said. “You have lots of time.”

“Then I’m sure we can do it,” said Winona. “Marie has a canoe she’ll probably want to enter, and besides that surely we can get up a float among us.”

And then something which Louise—so she said afterwards—had been expecting, happened. One of the women who had bought pottery from them that morning came up, and began to talk to Miss Lawrence, quite as if the girls were out of hearing.

“Good-morning,” she began, taking everything in as she talked. “Aren’t these the little Italian vendors that were around this morning? Why, how transformed they look! Really, the younger one looks quite refined. And what are you doing with them, dear Miss Lawrence?”

Her tone added quite plainly, “And won’t they pocket the spoons?”

Louise, the irrepressible, grinned above her salad. “Kinda lady loana da cloes,” she said glibly; and the waiter, who had heard her discoursing in rapid and fluent English of an unmistakably home-grown kind the moment before, got behind a palm. If he hadn’t he would have disgraced himself in a way no well-trained waiter should. Billy, too, dived into his napkin and seemed to have swallowed something down his Sunday throat. But Miss Lawrence remained quite calm.

“I have taken quite a fancy to them,” she said. “They seem like good, industrious girls. I am glad to see you are so interested, too, Mrs. Gardner. The best way to help them—you were going to ask me that, were you not—is to buy their goods. You’ll find them on sale in the little rose-room.”

“Oh—ah, yes indeed!” said Mrs. Gardner, and fled, while the young people regarded Miss Lawrence with admiration.

When the meal was over Miss Lawrence would not hear of their going back to the camp, or going on with their selling. The bellboy or a maid could go on looking after their things, she said, and sent Billy over to see about it. Then they went into one of the little dancing-rooms and showed each other steps for a long time; that is, Billy and Winona did, for Louise said she was tired, and sat thankfully still, listening to the orchestra that played in the dining-room. After that Miss Lawrence carried them all off to a band concert.

It was ten-thirty by the time they had finished, and all had something more to eat—real, grown-up things to eat in a most gorgeous cafÉ. Miss Lawrence wanted them to stay all night, and Winona was willing, but Louise insisted on going back.

“If we’re here to-morrow morning,” she explained, “every blessed woman that we sold things to will want to know all about us and our past lives, and then the secret will come out. No, thank you, Miss Lawrence,

“Iseebythemoonlight,
’Tispastmidnight,
TimepigandIwerehome
Anhourandahalfago!”

“I being the pig, I suppose!” added Winona.

“Well, I won’t keep you against your will,” said Miss Lawrence, getting up from the cafÉ table. “So you’d better go back to the hotel. They can be packing up what’s left of your things for you, while you change. But what about rowing across the lake and down the river in the dark? Can you look after them, William?”

“I should think I could!” said Billy. “Besides—I forgot to tell you, girls, or we might have had a grand reunion—Lonny Hughes and Tom are to meet me at the dock at about eleven, with one of the camp canoes. Tom’s Winona’s brother,” he explained to his aunt. “So we’ll take one of the girls in the canoe, and one of us will go in the boat, and get them home safe as anything. For the matter of that, you can’t get hurt on this lake unless the fish should jump up and bite you,” he added as they reached the hotel, and parted to dress.

The girls hurried off their finery, and got hastily into their serge skirts and white blouses.

“I feel like Cinderella!” said Winona as they went down in the elevator again, only to find that, quick as they had been Billy had been quicker, and stood, familiar-looking in his khaki, to take them away. The pottery and linen that was left would all go into one suitcase now, so well had they and the bellboy prospered. Billy gave them, too, the money that had been taken in during the evening. They hurried off, after they had said good-bye to Miss Lawrence, and made her promise to come see them at Camp Karonya and stay a whole day.

At the last moment she pushed a bundle into Winona’s hands.

“Here are your dresses, child,” she said. “You looked so sweet it would be a shame for you and Louise not to keep them. I’ll make it up to Nataly.”

Winona threw her arms around Miss Lawrence’s neck, and kissed her.

“Thank you, dear fairy godmother!” she said.

A more astonished pair of boys than Lonny and Tom it would have been hard to find. It did not take long to explain matters. In a few moments they had Winona in the canoe between Tom and Billy, while Lonny rowed Louise in the boat. The girls held the boat and the canoe together. As they went Louise and Winona told the tale of their day’s work.

When they were done Louise pulled out the money they had made, and began to count it.

“You have some, too, Win,” she said.

“I know,” said Winona, “I have what Billy gave me, that the bellboy made. But I don’t believe it’s a lot.”

“Better count it,” counselled Tom, and Winona did. When she was through she looked up with an awed expression.

“Nearly ten dollars more!” she announced. “Oh, Louise, there must be some mistake! Why, if we both really have made all that, there’s enough for another three weeks’ camping!”

“And orders ahead!” said Louise serenely. “It will take Marie and Adelaide more of their time than they’ll want to spare from fancy diving and telling the birds from the wild-flowers, to make jelly and runners. I tell you, folks, I’m going to be an Italian porch-worker from now on. It pays. Sella da fina crock—getta da bigga price—blowa it in!”

The boys shouted. “Good for you, Louise!” they cried, and a startled bullfrog gave a deep emotional croak at the noise, and jumped into the water.

It was moonlight, so the trip home was pleasanter than any they had had. They sang till they came close to Camp Karonya, where they quieted down for fear of disturbing the sleeping girls. But they need not have worried. Camp Karonya was improving the moonlight night by sitting around a watch-fire, singing and telling stories. They could hear Helen’s voice lifted up in “Old Uncle Ned,” with a mandolin accompanying her that probably belonged to Edith. The boys tied the boat and the canoe, and carried the suitcases and stretcher, so pleasingly empty, ashore. All five walked over to where the fire gleamed, and were in the midst of the girls before anyone had seen them come.