“Madeline, you have won more from Peggy Stewart than you realize.  She has a rarely sweet character, though I am forced to admit that she seems to have been navigating uncharted waters.  I have never known a girl of her age to live such an extraordinary life and why she is half as lovable, charming and possessed of so much character, is a problem I have been trying all winter to solve.  But I rather dread the next few years for her unless some one both wise and affectionate takes that little clipper ship’s helm.  She is entirely beyond Harrison and Mammy now, and her father hasn’t even a passing acquaintance with his only child.  He thinks he has, and he loves her devotedly, but there’s more to Peggy Stewart in one hour than Neil Stewart will discover in years at the rate of two months out of twelve spent with her.  I think the world of the child, but Polly is my girl, and has slipped into Constance’s place.  I want you to let her stay with me, too.  I have been so happy this winter, and she with me, but I wish there was someone to be in Peggy’s home, or she could be sent to a good school for a year or two.  Sometimes I think that would be the best arrangement in the long run.”

Meanwhile Peggy was entirely unaware of the manner in which her future was being discussed and she and Polly were looking forward to regatta day with the liveliest anticipation.

As Peggy and Polly looked out over the bay and up the river that perfect morning Peggy cried: 

“Oh, Polly could anything be lovelier than this day?  The sky is like a blue canopy, not a cloud to be seen, the air just sets one nearly crazy, and that blue, sparkling water makes me long to dive head-first into it.”

“Well, why not?” asked Polly.  “It is only half past six and loads of time for a dip before breakfast.  Let’s get into our bathing suits, bang on the ceiling to wake up Happy, Shortie and Wheedles and make them stick their heads out of the window.”

It did not take five minutes to carry the suggestion into effect and a golf stick thumping “reveille” under Wheedles’ bed effectually brought him back from dreams of Annapolis.  Rousing out the other two he stuck a tousled head out of his window to be hailed by two bonny little figures prancing excitedly upon the balcony beneath him.

“Hello, great god Sumnus,” cried Polly, “Wake up!  Oh, but you do look sleepy.  Stir up the others.  Peggy and I are going down for a dip before breakfast and to judge by your eyes they need the sand washed out of them.”

“Awh!  Whow!  Oh,” yawned Wheedles, striving vainly to keep his mouth closed and to get his eyes opened.  Just then two other heads appeared.

“What’s doing?  House afire?” they asked.

“No, it’s the other element—­water,” laughed Peggy.  “Come and get into it.  That’s what we are going to do.  You may think those pink and blue jackets you’re wearing are the prettiest things in the world—­we know they are part of your graduation “trousseau,” but bathing suits are in order just now.  So put them on and hurry down.”