“Oh, yes,” cried Joyce.  “I saw their pictures, all dressed up like little knights when they were in the tableaux.”  She surveyed them with great interest as the cloud of dust they were raising rapidly drew nearer.

“Which one was it ran away with you in a hand-car, and nearly let the locomotive run over you?” asked Betty.

“That was Keith, the youngest one.  He is on the black hawse.”

“And which one gave you the silver arrow?” asked Eugenia.

“Malcolm,” answered the Little Colonel, putting up her hand to feel the little pin that fastened her sailor collar.

“Oh, she’s got it on now!” exclaimed Eugenia, turning to laugh over her shoulder at the other girls.  “See how red her face is.  I believe he is her sweet-heart.”

“It’s no such a thing!” cried the Little Colonel, angrily.  “Eugenia Forbes, you are the biggest goose I evah saw!  Mothah says it’s silly for children to talk about havin’ sweethea’ts.  We are just good friends.”

“It isn’t silly!” insisted Eugenia.  “I have two sweethearts who send me flowers and candy, and write me notes, and they are just as jealous of each other as they can be.”

“Then I’d be ashamed to brag of it,” cried the Little Colonel, angry that her mother’s opinion had been so flatly contradicted.  But there was no time for a quarrel.  The boys had come up with them, and Lloyd had to make the necessary introductions.  Eugenia thought she had never seen two handsomer boys, or any one with more courtly manners, and as Malcolm rode along beside her, she wished that Mollie and Fay and Kell could see her knightly escort.

Joyce and Keith followed, and Betty and Rob brought up the rear.  The Little Colonel led the way.  At the station she turned, saying, “Which way do you all want to go?”

“Have you ever been down by the gypsy camp?” asked Malcolm.  “We boys passed that way a little while ago, and they were playing on banjos and dancing, and having a fine old time.  It’s quite a sight.”

“Oh, yes, let’s go!” cried Eugenia.  “I’m wild to see it and have my fortune told.  Joyce and I were talking about it a little while before we started.  You want to go, don’t you, Joyce?” she called back over her shoulder.

“What’s that?” she answered.  “To the gypsy camp?  Of course.  I thought that that was where we had decided to go when we started.”

She had been in the house when Mrs. Sherman had discussed the matter with Eugenia and Betty, and was wholly unconscious that there was any objection to their going.

“I’m afraid mothah might not want us to go,” said Lloyd.  “Maybe it would be bettah to wait until anothah day and ask her.”

Rob and Betty had fallen a little behind the others, having spied a bunch of four-leafed clovers, and Rob had dismounted to pick them, so they did not hear the discussion that followed.  Lloyd was not willing to go without her mother’s permission, remembering what had been said about the camp the previous summer, but Eugenia had her way as she usually did.  Her influence over Lloyd was growing stronger every day.