tle Sprite.

"Nine skips, and then a hop! That makes ten," said Polly, "and I can
only make mine skip seven times."

"Oh, but you can do as well as I if you practice enough. I've always
lived here at the shore," Sprite said, "and the flat stones have been
my toys."

It was fine to compete with her, and Rose and Polly worked very hard
in their effort to make a better fling.

"Eight!" declared Polly, and for a number of times, she sent the
stones skipping eight times across the glassy little pool.

"Seven!" cried Rose, "and it almost went eight, and then didn't.
Wasn't that provoking?"

"Eight!" she shouted a moment later.

"Nine!" squealed Polly. "Nine! Who'd have believed I could?"

"I would," replied Sprite, "because you're trying so hard, and because
you can do anything."

"Oh, I can't!" Polly said.

"Well, you sing, and play, and you dance beautifully; after all that,
just skipping stones doesn't seem so very much," Sprite answered
quickly.

"It does to me because I've never done it before. It's great fun."

The sun was higher, and warm from exercise, they sat down in the
shadow of the cliff to rest, and cool off.

They talked of the ships that appeared on the horizon, wondering what
their cargoes might be. They talked of all sorts of things, but it was
Sprite who gave a surprise.

"Guess who has gone way, way over in that big yellow house on the
cliff to live. Guess!" she said, and her eyes were twinkling.

"Oh, tell us," said Polly.

"Yes, you'd better tell us," said Rose. "We couldn't ever guess."

"Won't you guess?" Sprite asked.

"What's the use," said Polly. "We couldn't guess who it is in a
month!"

"Well, it's Gwen Harcourt," Sprite said.

"Gwen Harcourt!" cried Polly and Rose in the same breath. "Why, how
funny. Her mamma said she was tired of Cliffmore."

"Yes, and she said she didn't like any of the people that were here
for the Summer," said Rose.

"Gwen said her mamma said that, but she said the reason was because
she was provoked, and Gwen said she teased and teased her to stay, so
she did, and they truly are in that big yellow house on the cliff.
There's only about a dozen people boarding there, and Gwen said it
seemed more select than the place where she'd been staying."

"I said: 'You like Polly Sherwood and Rose Atherton,' and she said,
'Yes, I like them, but it's the grown people that we don't care for,'"
concluded Sprite.

"It was the grown people that didn't like