Roses' motor car which was waiting to take them to the station.

"All aboard! Go ahead!" Bob called out, waving his hand to the chauffeur
and the car started off at a brisk rate.

"You know you needn't go, Dolly, even yet, if you don't want to," and
Mrs. Rose smiled kindly at the little girl, as they flew down the
avenue.

"I do want to go, Mrs. Rose, and I am ashamed of myself for acting so
bad, but I will brace up now. It was just saying good-bye to Mother that
somehow sort of seemed to shake my heart."

Dolly smiled through her tears and determinedly began to chatter gaily.

"That's the ticket!" said Mr. Rose, smiling approval at her. "That's
the brave little girl. Now when you get to Crosstrees you'll be so
delighted and interested, that you won't think of home and Mother for
two weeks, except to write a postcard now and then."

"You won't hardly have time for that!" cried Dotty, "there's so much to
do from morning till night, and that makes you so tired that you sleep
from night till morning. Oh, Dollyrinda, we will have the most
gorgeousest times ever!"

"It's beautiful to have Dolly with us," said Genie, her big black eyes
dancing with anticipation; "we can show her all our fav'rite places, and
all the islands and woodses and everything! But two weeks is an awful
short time."

"We'll make it longer next year," said Mr. Rose. "If our two wounded
soldiers hadn't been wounded, we would have started a month ago."

"Why do you call it Crosstrees camp?" asked Dolly.

"You'll see when you get there," and Mr. Rose smiled at his little
visitor.

* * * * *

Sure enough when they arrived, Dolly discovered the meaning of the
strange name. The gateway was formed by two trees which had started to
grow parallel, but in some way had been bent toward one another until
their trunks crossed about ten feet above ground. The trees had gone on
growing this way, and formed an "N," covered with branches and foliage.
The party had landed from their train at a small station near one end of
a long lake. They had traversed this lake in a swift motor boat, for
their camp was at the other end. It was nearly dark when they reached
their own pier and all clambered out and climbed a flight of narrow wet
steps.

"Hang on to the railing, Doll," said Dotty; "the steps are slippery, a
little."

Passing under the crosstrees, to which Mr. Rose drew Dolly's attention
as the name of the camp, they came to