not treated Amy with just the deference due a hostess, for Amy did figure in that role.
"Oh, that's all right," said Amy with a smile that seemed always full of warm fellowship and feeling. "I know just how you feel."
"Well, I feel wretched—there's no denying that," spoke Betty with a sigh. "To think that I should run you girls on a sand bar, almost on our first trip. Isn't it horrid?"
"Well, we'll forgive her if she'll run us off again; won't we, girls?" asked Grace, searching among the cushions.
"Here it is," said Amy with another of her calm smiles, as she produced the box of candy for which Grace was evidently searching.
"Thanks. Well, Betty, are you going to get forgiven?"
"Which means am I going to get you off this bar? Well, I'm going to do my best. Wait until I take a look at the engine."
"What's the matter with it?" asked Mollie quickly, a new cause for alarm dawning in her mind.
"Nothing, I hope," replied Betty. "But we ran on the bar so suddenly that it may be strained from its base."
"Is it a baseball engine?" asked Grace languidly. She seemed to have recovered her com-
