“Then run along, girls, get your things.  Don’t dress up; it is country all the way, and the dinner folks are not out yet.  It will be pleasanter to fix up after the operation,” said Mrs. White.

“But I say, momsey,” called Nat after her as she went upstairs, “you wouldn’t suggest a ‘Riley,’ would you?”

“Nathaniel White, if you dare get that girl’s hair cut in any but the most lady-like fashion I’ll—­disinherit you!”

“Shadows of the poorhouse!  Don’t!  I’ll make the fellow trim it with a butter knife.  Come along, children.  I’ll show you the newest in chaperonage at Mike’s!”

Both girls appeared on the veranda to which the depot cart had been drawn up.  Dorothy looked like a pond lily, Tavia had told her, in her light green dress with her yellow hair falling over it.  Tavia too was attractive, she had on a brown dress with gold in it that reflected the glint of her hair, and, as Ned handed Nat the reins he whispered:  “A stunner and a hummer.”

“It’s real jolly to have a girl around,” Nat remarked to Tavia, who had the front seat beside him, “and mother is so fond of girls—­I have always worn my hair long to please her.”

“Quite a protection in summer, isn’t it?” asked Tavia, noticing how the sunburn stopped where the hair began, and that otherwise the young man was much tanned.

“Yes, some.  But a fellow can’t expect to be a peachblow at Camp Hard Tack.”

“It must be a great sport to camp,” ventured Tavia.

“The greatest ever!  I would like to go out on a ranch but mother says ‘no, little boy, you must stay home,’ so home I stay.”

Dorothy and Ned were evidently enjoying themselves as well as those at front, for, it seemed to Tavia that Dorothy’s laugh had not rung out so jolly in many weeks—­so much had happened lately to dampen mirthful spirits.

“Just fancy,” said Tavia turning back to Ned, “I was sent along to keep Dorothy lively, she was actually threatened with nervous prostration, and think, how lively I did keep her?  Came nearing firing a train.”

“Oh, anything for a change,” politely answered Ned.  “One cannot tell just what sort of tonic is best, I am sure she looks first rate.”

“Bully,” added Nat, “but don’t worry that you’ve laid aside nursing, Yule, I have not been well myself.  Ahem!  Just finish off on me!”

“There comes our barber shop,” called Ned, as a striped pole appeared in view.  “Now for the artistic clip-the-clip.  Mike is a genius, blushing unseen here.  But I mean to set him up some day.  Tried to get him out to camp but he shied when we told him there were no ‘cops.’  Mike loves ‘cops,’ when the fellows get busy with his tonsorial apparatus.”

“Don’t faint this time,” Dorothy cautioned Tavia with a merry smile, thinking that those two boys would likely dip her in the brook at the side of the shop should she attempt anything like that.

“Indeed I know where and when to faint,” responded Tavia.  “Mr. French has a way about him—­”