the minute, and when the young
scouts appeared they set out at once, exactly--as Blue Bonnet
remarked--like the third-graders at recess.

Grandmother had settled herself comfortably with a book,--Mrs. Judson
was coming over later for a chat,--and so it was with a free mind and
a soul ready for a carnival of pleasure that Blue Bonnet stepped forth
on the joyous expedition.

"I reckon it is better," she admitted to Alec, "to have everything
done first, instead of having them to do when you're tired."

"Oh, wise young judge!" he laughed. "We'll make a New Englander of you
yet."

"That reminds me of something Cousin Tracey said once. He thought I
was developing a New England conscience, and said it was an
exceedingly troublesome thing to have around. I believe him,--it's
much more fun to develop Kodak films. There now!" she broke off
impatiently, "--if I haven't left my camera in the tent. And I want
pictures of the Spring."

"Never mind, we'll be up here every day," said Alec. "There's a jolly
little rustic bridge where you can gather the crowd for a group
picture. Here we are!"

He and Blue Bonnet had walked faster than the others, and so were
first to see this most beautiful of springs. Blue Bonnet gave one
look, and then something rose in her throat, stifling breath and
speech. Alec watched her appreciatively.

"If he speaks to me now, he's not the boy I've always believed him,"
the girl was saying to herself. She dreaded the first word that should
break in on that moment of perfect beauty.

Below them the giant spring surged up, a great emerald in a setting of
woods and hills. Clear as air, the water boiled up from the bowels of
the earth, revealing every fish and pebble in its mirror-like depths.
Shrubs overhung it; wild cresses and ferns clustered about it; below
the surface long tresses of pinky-coral grasses floated and waved in
the bubbling current.

A voice shattered the blissful moment of peace. "Isn't she a beauty?"

It was a sandy-haired youth with Kitty who had clambered roughly into
the picture. Blue Bonnet hated him fiercely for a few seconds. Then
the rest came up with a babble of voices and exclamations and she
resigned herself, with a sigh, to the fact that the gift of silence,
being golden, is given to but few.

Knight gave her a questioning glance and she glowed back at him. "It's
perfect--almost too perfect."

"There's a wee spring up higher,--the camp creek flows from it. Do you
fee