“I ’ll sit here for a little while,” said Mrs. Barlow, pointing to the neighborhood of some rocks which cast just enough shadow to make the spot a desirable one for a seat. Here Brenda opened the little folding seat, and then went on with Julia toward the bath-house.
“Have you the key?” asked Julia, as she pulled at the padlock which fastened the door.
“Why, no, I thought that you would bring it.”
“How could you? I did n’t know where it was. Besides, Aunt Anna said that you would bring it, that she had spoken to you about it after breakfast.”
“Then I must have entirely forgotten it; truly I have never once thought of it to-day, until I saw you trying that lock. What shall I do? It will be awfully disappointing not to go in bathing, and we certainly can’t dress here on the beach. I wish that we had n’t sent Thomas home. I feel ready to cry.”
“Oh, don’t cry. You are too old for that. Perhaps we could borrow a bath-house from one of those bathers, or—”
“No, I ’m afraid that there is n’t any chance. Do you know, Julia, I believe that I shall have to give up novel-reading. I was reading when mamma said something to me this morning. I suppose that it must have been something about the key. I said, ‘yes,’ but really I did not hear a word that she said. I was thinking entirely about the book. It’s the most interesting thing I ever read.”
“So was the one you read the day before yesterday. At
