“Well, Julia,” cried Brenda, as they left the bath-house a little later, “I never expected to feel myself as superior to you as I did to-day. Why you really screamed with fright when I threatened you with a ducking!” There was good-humor in Brenda’s tone, in spite of her jeering, and Julia understood her.
“Well, I suppose I have never told you of my fear of water. You see I know so little about it. When Aunt Anna told me that she was having a bathing-suit made for me, I felt like asking, ‘What for?’ I thought then that I should be unlikely to use it. But I decided to- day not to let you know how I felt, but to go in as bravely as possible.”
“Yes,” replied Brenda, “and in the course of a week or two, you will float and swim, and—”
“Become a duck, just like you. No, I think not,” replied Julia. “By the end of the summer I may float, but I am willing to have you know that I am not a bit courageous. Ah! here’s Thomas,” she added, as a carriage met them in the rather narrow road.
“Well, I’m glad that mamma will not have to wait any longer. Of course we could ride home, too. But I thought it would be a good time to show you this road. There are such quantities of wild flowers.”
“Yes,” said Julia, “to me it seems very surprising to see so many flowers close to the sea. Just look at those roses,” and she pointed to a stone wall, in front of which, and in the marshy field beyond, were quantities of wild roses.
