"Oh, indeed!" Mrs. Fenton repeated, as she sank into a large rocker, and looked off across the valley to the distant mountains.

After a few moments she seemed to have lost interest in the view, and, taking up a small embroidery frame, commenced to ply her needle as if she were eager to finish the pretty doily.

Two little figures came slowly up the path to the piazza. They were returning from the christening of the little boat.

"What is wrong, Jack? You don't look very happy," said Mrs. Tiverton.

"He wanted me to christen his boat, but he wouldn't give it my name!"

said Floretta, before Jack could reply.

"She thought just because she hemmed the sails I'd name it the _Floretta_, but I wouldn't, so I shoved it into the water myself, and shouted _Carlotta_. That's the name of a girl that goes to my school, and I like her."

"You say Floretta hemmed your sails," said Mrs. Tiverton.

"Well, I thanked her for that, and I let her go to the launching, and I let her christen it, but I don't see that I need name it for her," said Jack, stoutly.

Mrs. Fenton had not heeded what the children were saying. One might have fancied that she did not hear, although both Floretta and Jack stood quite near her chair.

A large spool that she had wound with colored silk slipped from her lap, and rolled toward Floretta.

"Pick it up, dear," Mrs. Paxton said.

"Don't want to," said Floretta.

Mrs. Fenton stooped, and recovered the spool, and, taking her embroidery frame in her hand, left the piazza, and mounted the stairs to her room.

"Why _were_ you so rude?" said Mrs. Paxton, but Floretta, perching upon the low railing, began softly humming "Yankee Doodle."

Jack Tiverton, espying a boy that he knew, whistled loudly, and then, as the other boy turned, ran after him, the two whooping and shouting like savages.

"It is almost lunch time, Jack!" Mrs. Tiverton cried, and the boy turned, and waved his hand to show that he heard her.

"Boys aren't apt to forget meal time," muttered old Mr. Cunningham behind his paper.

True enough, Jack returned in ample time, and was the first at the table.

Early in the afternoon Dorothy and Nancy went out for a drive with Romeo.

It was one of those sunny days that tempt nearly every one to ride or walk.

The mountain roads were rather lonely, and Mrs. Dainty insisted that whether Dorothy were riding Romeo, or driving in the phaeton, the groom must ride at a little distance behind her.

There were the lovely, slender birches on either side of the roads, there were patches of bright green moss upon which the sunlight rested, there were blackberry vines and woodbine wreathing the low stone walls, and here and there a mullein raised its stately head from its base of velvet leaves.

Oh, it seemed like an enchanted country, where new beauties were to be found on either hand!

"Look!" cried Dorothy, "close beside that mullein is an evening primrose, and their blossoms are the same color."

Then a tiny chipmunk sprang upon the wall, sat erect, and watched them for a moment, then ran up the trunk of a slender tree, where from a low branch he watched until they had pa.s.sed. Then back to the wall he sprang, where he chattered as if scolding the little girls who had disturbed his solitude. It may be that, instead, he was talking to himself, and telling what charming little girls they were.

A long way from the hotel they pa.s.sed Jack Tiverton, with a number of other boys who were staying at a hotel a few miles distant from the Cleverton.

They were all somewhat larger than Jack, and he thought it fine to be with them.

He had met them at a ball game three weeks before, and he had been very busy holding their acquaintance ever since.

"We're going to catch the echo, and keep it, too!" shouted Jack.

"It's mocking you now," said Dorothy, with a laugh.

"I know it," said Jack, "but we'll catch it, and fasten it so it can't get away."

"_How_ will you fasten an echo?" Nancy asked, turning, and looking over her shoulder as the little phaeton sped past.

"Trust us to find a way!" cried Jack, and the others laughed as if they already knew exactly how to do it.

They left the road, and, vaulting over the wall, crossed the open field, singing a gay, rollicking song as they went.

"They just _say_ they're going hunting for the echo," said Dorothy, "and they say it for fun, but I wonder where they are going, and what they truly are going to do."

The groom, riding nearer, touched his hat.

"Please, Miss Dorothy, I heard the lads saying that there's an old house over near that mountain, where a hermit lived years ago, and they're off to find it if they can."

"Then why didn't they say so, instead of telling such a tale about catching the echo?" Dorothy asked.

"They were saying that they wanted to find the hut, and hunt in it, and around it ter find things the old fellow may have hidden. They feared you or Miss Nancy might tell some other lad. They're wanting it all to themselves."

Having told this bit of information, the groom allowed the carriage to pa.s.s him, and once more rode behind it.

The two little girls talked of the long tramp that the boys would have before they would find the hermit's hut.

"And perhaps they won't find it at all, after all their hunting," said Nancy.

"Well, I hope they will," said Dorothy, "because it's so horrid to hunt and hunt, for nothing."

"Oh, look!" she cried a moment later. "See the lovely mosses! Let's take some back to mamma and Aunt Charlotte."

They were, indeed, beautiful. There was green moss that looked like velvet, and gray moss formed like tiny cups with scarlet edges, and other moss tipped with red.

On an old stump they found sh.e.l.l-like fungus, some a creamy white, others white, with soft brown markings.

Oh, a fine collection of rarely beautiful mosses and lichens they gathered, and heaped on the bottom of the phaeton.

Romeo turned his head to watch them as if he wondered when they would have gathered enough.

"Oh, we do keep you standing, dear, don't we?" Dorothy said, patting his neck as she spoke.