“It’s a walking club in spring and fall,” answered Betty.
“And a skating club when we have ice,” added Dorothy. “That’s the best part of it all, for we have bonfires on the edge of the pond, and go to some house for supper when we get through skating.”
“Well, it all sounds lovely, and I shall be delighted to join. What time do you start?” asked Ruth.
“At two sharp, and we are to meet at the schoolhouse,” answered Charlotte. “Miss Burton is going with us this afternoon, and she’s to be made an honorary member of the club.” “All right. I’ll be there,” said Ruth, as the girls left her at Mr. Hamilton’s door.
Once in the house she looked first to see if there were letters or the much-desired cablegram, and finding nothing ran up-stairs to get ready for lunch. The house was strangely still, and she missed Mrs. Hamilton’s cordial welcome, which she had found vastly comforting in these first days of feeling so much alone.
On her desk was a note which she hastened to open.
“My dear Ruth” (it began):
“I am sorry you will find neither a cablegram nor me writing for you this noon. Mr. Hamilton has telephoned me that friends of ours are in town who will not have time to come out to us. So we are all to dine together in Boston to-night. I am sorry that you will have two lonely meals, and hope some of the girls will dine with you. Invite them for me, and forgive me for leaving you in such unexpected solitude.
“Yours lovingly,
“Aunt Mary.”
“How sweet of her to sign herself that way,” thought Ruth, as she folded the note. “I do miss her, and I’m glad there’s something pleasant ahead for this afternoon.”
The Social Six to a girl were prompt at the meeting-place, and as Miss Burton appeared just as the clock was striking two, the expedition started with no delay. “It’s a perfect day for Bear Hill,” said Dorothy enthusiastically, as she led the way with Miss Burton, and unconsciously tried to imitate her swinging gait. Since Miss Burton had taken charge of the gymnasium, Dorothy, who was always to the fore in out-of-door life, had been more than ever devoted to everything pertaining to physical culture.
“See Dolly walk,” said Charlotte, who was ambling along in the extreme rear; “she walks as though she positively enjoyed the mere motion of it, while I am so lazy that I shouldn’t even belong to the club if it weren’t for being with the girls, and for the fun we have at our parties.”
As they crossed the railroad and entered the narrow wood-path on the other side, the girls fell into single file and walked on steadily, talking gaily. It was one of those brilliant October days when all the warmth of the fleeting summer is in the air; when the sky is a radiant blue, and the red and gold of the foliage casts a glory over the sombre woods.
Ruth was enchanted. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she said breathlessly, as, after a long walk through the winding, shaded path, they came out into the open, and almost at the top of the hill.