“How curious that such a thing should be here right in the middle of the salt sea!” said one of the girls, as they stood looking at the quiet pool while the tide dashed high upon the rocks all about them.

“Not more curious than how it is possible for anything so beautiful and pure as one of those lilies to grow from the mud at the bottom of the pond.  The ugly yellow ones are not so out of place; but no one cares for them, and they smell horridly,” added another girl in a reflective tone.

“Instinct sends the white lily straight up to the sun and air, and the strong slender stem anchors it to the rich earth below, out of which it has power to draw the nourishment that makes it so lovely and keeps it spotless—­unless slugs and flies and boys spoil it,” added Miss Scott as she watched Mr, Fred poke and splash with his cane after a half-closed flower.

“The naughty things have all shut up and spoilt the pretty sight; I’m so disappointed,” sighed Miss Ellery, surveying the green buds with great disfavor as she had planned to wear some in her hair and act Undine.

“You must come early in the morning if you want to see them at their best.  I’ve read somewhere that when the sun first strikes them they open rapidly, and it is a lovely sight.  I shall try to see it some day if I can get here in time,” said Miss Scott.

“How romantic old maids are!” whispered one girl to another.

“So are young ones; hear what Floss Ellery is saying,” answered the other; and both giggled under their big hats as they caught these words followed by the rippling laugh,—­

“All flowers open and show their hearts when the sun shines on them at the right moment.”

“I wish human flowers would,” murmured Mr. Fred; and then, as if rather alarmed at his own remark, he added hastily, “I’ll get that big lily out there and make it bloom for you.”

Trusting to an old log that lay in the pond, he went to the end and bent to pull in the half-shut flower; but this too ardent sun was not to make it blossom, for his foot slipped and down he went up to his knees in mud and water.

“Save him! oh, save him!” shrieked Miss Ellery, clutching Captain John, who was laughing like a boy, while the other lads shouted and the girls added their shrill merriment as poor Fred scrambled to the shore a wreck of the gallant craft that had set sail in spotless white.

“What the deuce shall I do?” he asked in a tone of despair as they flocked about him to condole even while they laughed.

“Roll up your trousers and borrow Sam’s boots.  The old lady will dry your shoes and socks while you are at supper, and have them ready to wear home,” suggested Captain John, who was used to duckings and made light of them.

The word “supper” made one carnal-minded youth sniff the air and announce that he smelt “something good;” and at once every one turned toward the picnic ground, like chickens hurrying to the barn at feeding-time.  Fred vanished into the cottage, and the rest gathered about the great fire of driftwood fast turning to clear coals, over which Ruth was beginning her long hot task.  She wore a big apron, a red handkerchief over her head, had her sleeves rolled up, and was so intent on her work that she merely nodded and smiled as the new-comers greeted her with varying degrees of courtesy.