e felt, too, that an apology was due to her
hosts and somehow it didn't seem right to talk about it to the girls for
she felt that it was to Mr. and Mrs. Rose she owed an explanation.

"Wait here for me a minute," she said suddenly to Dolly and Genie, and
turning, she ran back to the bungalow.

She found Mr. and Mrs. Rose in the living room, and going straight to
them she said impulsively, "I was very naughty to run away last night
and I want to apologise. You see I got homesick--"

"Bless your heart; don't say a word about it," said Mr. Rose, in the
kindest tones; "that's part of the performance, child. Everybody gets
homesick the first night in camp. It's to be expected. Then, you see,
the next day they begin to like it and the third day you couldn't drive
them home."

"But I was very impolite to go away like that--"

"Never mind, Dollikins," and Mrs. Rose put her arm around her little
visitor; "it's all right, dearie; don't think of it again. I know
perfectly well how forlorn you felt and how you wanted your mother. And
I know, too, you were chilly and you felt strange and lonesome and
couldn't sleep. But that's all over now and we won't even think of it
again. If you don't sleep all right to-night and if you want to go home
to-morrow, I'll take you down myself, right straight to where your
mother is. Now put it all out of your mind and scamper back to Dotty.
The party will be coming pretty soon now."

"Run along," and Mr. Rose patted the golden head. "You wouldn't have
been the right kind of a guest at all if you hadn't been homesick the
first night. But I'll bet you a ripe red apple that you won't want to go
home to-morrow, but if you do want to you shall. Now skip along, for if
I'm not mistaken I hear a motor boat and like as not it's that bunch
from the Holmes'."

Dolly ran away, her heart greatly lightened by the kind attitude of her
hosts, and though she felt sorry she had run away the night before, she
did not feel so ashamed since they had so pleasantly made light of it.

Sure enough, the party of young people were just coming along the pier,
and Edith Holmes, a bright girl of about Dolly's age, was introducing
herself and her friends.

"I'm Edith Holmes," she said, laughing, "and these are my cousins, Guy
and Elmer. They're nice enough boys, but here's their sister Josie who
is nicer yet."

Josie was a shy little thing, who blushed and cast down her eyes at
Edith's praise.

"I thought the Norri