“I love it!” Peggy cried happily. “The wetter the better! Where are we going, Michael?”
“Straight across.” Michael cut his speed a little so he could hear. “See that cluster of buildings? The Golden Hound is the last one on the left. Good food and music—very rustic.”
They were in the middle of the lake now, and Peggy realized that it was much larger than she had thought. There were islands dotted all around, some so tiny that there was only room for one or two houses.
“Private islands,” Michael informed her. “How would you like one of those, Peggy?”
“Oh, would I! It would be sheer heaven!” Peggy took a deep breath of the wonderful fresh air. “No wonder you love this place, Michael. I wouldn’t ever want to leave if I’d been raised here!”
“The winters are _cold_, though.” Mary laughed. “How do you feel now, Peggy? Better?”
“Marvelous! I’ve almost forgotten about the theater entirely. This is just what the doctor ordered!”
Michael slowed the _Merry Mac_ and carefully turned her into the dock in front of the restaurant. Peggy was impressed by his expert handling of the boat.
“Dad would never forgive me if anything happened to our little friend here, and I’d never forgive myself!” he said as he stepped out and helped the girls up from the boat.
They had a wonderful dinner at a lovely candlelit table by a picture window that afforded a sweeping view of the lake.
“What a beautiful spot,” Peggy said dreamily as twilight fell, and lights in the little cottages dotting the shore twinkled on like a fringe of decoration. “Why haven’t we been here before?”
“We can come again during the last week of the season,” Michael said. “I’ll bring everybody over sometime.”
“Michael, isn’t it getting awfully dark?” Mary interrupted, watching the sky that had changed from sunset violet to a deep, heavy gray.
Michael looked at the sky and smiled. “Sure, it’ll be dark before we get back. You’re not worried about going back at night, are you?”
“Well,”—Mary hesitated—“do you know how to find your way back at night?”
Michael laughed. “Mary Hopkins! And you’ve lived at Lake Kenabeek for sixteen years!”
“How do you find your way back?” Peggy asked.
“By my landing light.” Michael was still laughing at Mary. “I take a straight course from here, across the lake, home. It’s impossible to miss it. Where have you been all these years, Mary?”