“It will be great fun, won’t it?” cried Brenda, as she and Julia sat in their favorite corner of the piazza.
“Ye-es,” said Julia, with some hesitation, “I suppose so.”
“Well, I must say that you are not very enthusiastic. It’s a perfectly beautiful yacht; it takes two men to run it, besides cousin Edward. Of course it is n’t one of the largest. It’s meant for racing, but I can tell you that it flies like—like lightning when there’s a stiff breeze.” (In summer Brenda prided herself on her nautical terms.)
“It’s very kind, of course, in cousin Edward to ask me, but I ’ve just been telling him that I think that I won’t go.”
“Why, Julia, what an idea! Why not?”
“For one thing I should n’t be any addition to the party. I’m sure to be sea-sick.”
“Oh, it won’t be rough, and besides we ’ll not go out very far.”
“That would n’t make any difference to me. I should be uncomfortable myself, and probably make the rest of you uncomfortable.”
“The sooner you get used to sailing, the better, Julia. We ’re always going somewhere on a boat.”
Julia sighed an audible sigh.
“Besides, I ought to study to-day. In the next ten days I must review all my Cæsar and Virgil, and work out any number of test problems in algebra, and—”
“There, that’s what I ’ve always said. It’s simply wicked to have any work to do after school is over. It’s