ey're the relics we found," said Katherine. "We dug them out of the
hole we made."

"I dug most of them," said Anthony.

"He never touched one!" said Slim in an indignant aside to Hinpoha. "To
hear him talk you'd think he was the only one who ever did anything
around here."

Katherine considered fishing the most inane occupation under the sun, so
she curled up on the beach to read while the enthusiastic anglers put
out in the rowboats. Gladys did not care for fishing either, so she
decided to stay on shore and keep Katherine company.

"What are you reading?" she asked, sitting down beside her in the shadow
of the bluff.

Katherine held up the book so she could see the title.

"_Romeo and Juliet_!" exclaimed Gladys. "Why, Katherine! I thought
you hated love stories."

Katherine grinned rather shamefacedly. "I do, usually," she replied.

Gladys sat back and regarded her in wonder. Here was a new side coming
to light. Katherine the unromantic; Katherine the prosaic; the
independent, the hater of sentimental reading, devouring love stories
all of a sudden! Gladys drew pictures in the sand and pondered on the
meaning of it.

Katherine read on absorbedly for ten minutes, then she laid the book
down abruptly. "Gladys," she said, "I want you to tell me something."

"What is it?" asked Gladys, pausing in the middle of an intricate
pattern.

"What is the matter with me?" asked Katherine.

"What's the matter with you?" repeated Gladys. "There isn't
_anything_ the matter with you. You're a dear."

"There is, too," said Katherine. "Somehow all the girls I read about in
books are different. You're like the girls in books and so is Hinpoha
and so are the rest of you, but I'm not. I'm big and awkward and homely,
and that's all I'll ever be."

"No, you're not," declared Gladys. "You're the most fun that ever
happened."

"That's just the trouble," said Katherine, drawing up her knees and
clasping her bony hands around them. "Everybody thinks I'm a joke, and
that's all. Nobody ever admired me. People think I'm a cross between a
lunatic asylum and a circus. I'm so tired of hearing people say, 'What a
_funny_ girl that Katherine Adams is! She's a perfect scream!' They
never say 'What a nice looking girl,' or 'What a charming girl,' the way
they always do about you and Hinpoha. I _do_ wish somebody admired
me once without being so desperately amused! Now I want you to tell me
exactly what's the matter with my looks. Somet