But this was a special kind of day which held no room for
embarrassment; and, more quickly than it takes to tell it, shoes and
stockings were off and the new game was on. Missy stood on a
stepping-stone, suddenly diffident; the water now looked colder and
deeper, the whispering cascadelets seemed to roar like breakers on a
beach. The girls were all letting out little squeals as the water
chilled their ankles, and the boys made feints of chasing them into
deeper water.
Raymond pursued Missy, squealing and skipping from stone to stone
till, unexpectedly, she lost her slippery footing and went sprawling
into the shallow stream.
"Oh, Missy! I'm sorry!" She felt his arms tugging at her. Then she
found herself standing on the bank, red-faced and dripping, feeling
very wretched and very happy at the same time--wretched because
Raymond should see her in such plight; happy because he was making
such a fuss over her notwithstanding.
He didn't seem to mind her appearance, but took his hat and began
energetically to fan her draggled hair.
"I wish my hair was curly like Kitty Allen's," she said.
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