n end, and so did their preparations. The day
of the start came, final good-byes were said, and with Mr. and Mrs.
Stonington the four outdoor girls took the train for the Sunny South.

CHAPTER VIII

LAUNCHING THE BOAT

"Can you smell the orange blossoms?"

"Yes. Aren't they delicious!"

"It reminds me of a wedding--hark, can you hear the strains of
Mendelssohn?"

"Those are frogs, Betty," laughed Mollie.

The girls and Mr. and Mrs. Stonington were driving in a big
canopy-topped carriage along a Florida road, toward the orange grove on
the outskirts of the town of Bentonville. Their journey was over and at
last they were in Florida.

"Oh, see the magnolias!" cried Grace, as they passed a tree in full
bloom, the fragrance being almost overpowering. "They are just like
those the boys sold us when the train stopped."

"Only they smell much sweeter," said Betty.

"Yes, almost too sweet," added Mollie.

Their trip had been practically without incident, and certainly without
accident. There had been one or two delays, caused by various small
happenings, but finally they had steamed into the junction station,
where they took a way train for Bentonville.

This last was a short trip, the one in the compartment car, without
change, having been rather monotonous. And yet not dull, for the girls
found much to talk about, to speculate upon and to wonder at.

The snow, the cold and biting winds had gradually been left behind, and
Nature, coy and uncertain at first, had, with the advance into the
South, grown bolder. They had come from the land of bleakness and
barrenness--from the place of leafless trees--into the region of Summer,
almost in a day and night. They had exchanged snows for flowers.

Mrs. Stonington had stood the trip well, though a trifle weary and worn
as the end of the journey came in sight. But the warm and balmy air of
the South seemed to revive her, and her cheeks, that had been pale, took
on a tinge of color.

"Oh, I am so glad," murmured Amy, and the others were glad with her.

They had delayed at the Bentonville station long enough to make sure
that Betty's boat had arrived, and to send home telegrams telling of
their safe journey.

They had been met by a man from the orange grove, a kindly Southern
worker, whose very nature seemed a protest against haste and worry.

"Well," he greeted them slowly, "I see you all has arrived. Welcome,
folks! Now when you're ready we'll move along; b