She saw them on the grass at her feet, then quietly lifted her head.
"We caught no trout," said Rosalie, sitting down on the arm of the chair that Duane drew forward.

"I fussed about in that canoe until Duane came along, and then we went in swimming." "Swimming ?" repeated Geraldine, dumfounded.
Rosalie balanced herself serenely on her chair-arm.
"Oh, we often do that." "Swim--where ?" "Why across the Gray Water, child!" "But--there are no bath houses----" Rosalie laughed outright.
"Quite Arcadian, isn't it?
Duane has the forest on one side of the Gray Water for a dressing-room, and I the forest on the other side.

Then we swim out and shake hands in the middle.

Our bathing dresses are drying on Miller's lawn.

Please do tell me somebody is scandalised.