In the meantime Harriet Burrell was living the wholesome life that her
environment made possible. She was a strong, healthy, buoyant girl, full
of life and spirits, popular with everyone who knew her, and a superior
being in the estimation of the three girls who were her close friends,
even though she was unable to dress as well as they or to do other things
that were easily within the means of the parents of Grace, Hazel and
Margery.

The four girls were together much of the time, quarreling and making up
almost in the same breath, even stubborn little Tommy giving way to the
kinder and more mature disposition of Harriet Burrell. As Hazel had
already said, Harriet at that moment was at home helping her mother, even
though the fields, the trees and the nodding daisies were calling loudly
to her.

"Must you go if you do not wish to!" Margery was asking.

"I gueth not; not if I don't want to, and I don't," declared Grace with
emphasis.

"She thinks she can have more fun with us four girls this summer. Still,
she should go if her folks wish her to do so," nodded Hazel thoughtfully.
"Don't you say so, Buster?"

"No, I don't," declared Margery with some warmth. "In her place I should
do just what I liked best. Then again, it wouldn't be fair for Tommy to go
away like that and leave us all alone here to mope through the summer.
That's right, Tommy. Tell them you won't go unless--unless you can take us
along too."