" said she, "and I think her mother was right when she
called her a creature of impulse. Let us wait here until they come up. We
must all go in; it is getting chilly."

In a few minutes Margery and the young man had reached them.

"Thank you very much," said this creature of impulse to her escort. "My
uncle and aunt will take care of me now. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Archibald,
this is Mr. Clyde. He saw a great snake go into a hole over there just
before supper-time, and I think we ought all to be very careful how we
pass that way."

"I don't think there is very much danger after nightfall," said Mr. Clyde,
who was a pleasant youth with brown hair, "and to-morrow I'll see if I can
kill him. It's a bad place for a snake to have a hole, just where ladies
would be apt to take their walks."

"I don't think the snake will trouble us much," said Mrs. Archibald, "for
we leave to-morrow. Still, it would be a good thing to kill it."

After this there were a few remarks made about snakes, and then Mr. Clyde
bade them good-evening.

"How in the world, Margery," said Mrs. Archibald, "did you get acquainted
so quickly with that young man--and who is he?"

"Oh, it all happened quite naturally," said she. "As we turned to go out
of the woods he was the gentleman nearest to me, and so of course he came
with me. Those two girls are sisters, and their name is Dodworth. They
introduced Mr. Clyde and the other gentleman, Mr. Raybold, to me. But that
was after you had been talking to Mrs. Dodworth, their mother, who is Mr.
Raybold's aunt. The other lady, with the shawl on, is Mrs. Henderson,
and--would you believe it?--she's grandmother to that girl in the short
dress! She doesn't begin to look old enough. The Dodworths don't go into
camp at all, but expect to stay here for two weeks longer, and then they
go to the sea-shore. Mrs. Henderson leaves day after to-morrow.

"Mr. Clyde and his friend live in Boston. They are both just beginning to
practise law, though Mr. Clyde says that Mr. Raybold would rather be an
actor, but his family objects. The old gentleman who is walking up and
down in front of the hotel has heart-disease, some people say--but that is
not certain. He stayed here all last summer, and perhaps he will this
year. In two weeks hardly any of the people now in this hotel will be
here. One family is going into camp when the father and two sons come on
to join them, and the rest are going to the sea-shore, except one lady.