t you are going to be one of us," she said,
dimpling delightfully. "We do have the _best_ times! Last summer we went
camping on our farm out toward Anchorage. We were in a grove back of the
house, and if you didn't have to go down to the house for the newspapers
and milk and things, you could imagine that we were miles from everyone.
Can you swim?"

"No," answered Rosanna, "but I mean to learn."

"Oh, you must!" said Miss Hooker. "Everyone should know how."

"Of course," agreed Rosanna. "And a great many people do know how, so I
suppose I will be able to learn. It seems very hard."

"Not a bit of it!" trilled Miss Hooker. "I have several medals for long
distance swimming myself, and I taught myself when I was just a little
girl."

"You are not so very large now, are you?" ventured Rosanna.

"No, I am _not_," said Miss Hooker in what was for her quite a cross
tone. "Oh, Rosanna, how I would love to be tall! There is a girl round
the corner on Fourth Street, and she is about six feet tall, and I just
_envy_ her so! Why, what are you laughing at?"

"Oh, you please must excuse me!" begged Rosanna, "but when Minnie told
us the young lady was coming to see me about the Girl Scouts, Uncle
Robert and I both made up our mind that you were that tall young lady.
And Uncle Robert said he was sure to be fearfully afraid of you. And
instead of that, you are _you_, just as sweet and little! Uncle Robert
needn't be afraid a bit, need he?"

"I am not at all sure," said Miss Marjorie Hooker. "Perhaps he will have
to be terribly afraid of me."

CHAPTER XXI

It was bedtime one night, and after Rosanna had been tucked in her
grandmother came up. She had been doing this ever since Rosanna came
home and the little girl had learned to long for the little talks they
had together. But this night Mrs. Horton sat down in the big chair, and
told Rosanna to come into her arms. Cuddled there on her grandmother's
lap, Rosanna rested while they had a talk that neither of them ever
forgot. For the first time Rosanna learned all about the little sister,
and Mrs. Horton in her turn came to know something of the thoughts and
loneliness and longings that go on in a little girl's mind. Rosanna told
her grandmother all about it, and if Mrs. Horton hugged her so tight
that it almost hurt and cried over her short hair, Rosanna felt all the
happier for it.

And Mrs. Horton forgot that she was a proud and haughty lady (indeed she
was really