"What do you think of a girl who goes off on two journeys in one summer?"
and Gerda leaned over the railing of the canal-boat to look at her
friends on the quay below.

It was the middle of August, and the same group of boys and girls who had
seen the twins off to the North in June were now speeding them to the
West.

"I think you don't care for Stockholm any longer," called Hilma; while
Oscar added, "And you can't care for your friends either, or you wouldn't
be leaving them again so soon."

"I shall be home in just seven days," said Gerda, "and if you will all be
here on the quay to welcome me, I will tell you the whole story of the
wonderful Göta Canal, and our sight-seeing in Göteborg."

"Your friends will have to meet you at the railroad station," her father
told her. "We shall come back by train. It is much the quickest way."

"At the railroad station then, one week from to-day," called Gerda, as
the steamer backed away from the quay, and swung slowly out into the
Mälar Lake.

"Gerda and Birger are the luckiest twins I know," exclaimed Olaf, taking
off his cap and swinging it around his head, as he caught sight of
Gerda's fluttering handkerchief.

"That boy Erik seems to be very fond of Birger," said Oscar. "And now
that the little girl from the lighthouse is going to live with the Ekmans
this winter, I suppose the twins will forget all the rest of us."