GREAT EXPECTATIONS
"And to think that the Applegates own a motor boat!" It was Lucile who
spoke.
The girls were walking down the quaint, narrow street at the side of the
hotel. Although it was very early, scarcely seven o'clock, the girls had
been up and dressed for nearly an hour. There was so much to be seen and
thought about and talked about that an ordinary day, begun at, say, eight
o'clock, seemed to these young people wholly inadequate. So it was they
happened to be taking a walk while other guests of the hotel were just
beginning to wake up, talking over the events of the day before and
beginning to feel a most inordinate longing for breakfast.
"I'm awfully glad," Jessie was saying, in answer to Lucile's remark. "We
ought to have a great old time to-day. Oh, girls, I'm so hungry!"
"That's the tenth time you've said that very same thing within the last
ten minutes, Jessie," said Evelyn, teasingly. "That suit is awfully
becoming, Lucy," she approved.
"What do you mean?" queried Lucile of Jessie, while she thanked Evelyn
with a bright smile.
"Oh, you don't pay any attention to me at all, and nobody throws any
compliments in my direction," and Jessie contrived to look very injured
and forlorn.
"Why, we were listening with all our ears," declaimed Lucile; then added,
naively, "What did you say?"
"Humph!" grunted Jessie. "I just said I was hungry."
"So are we all of us," sang Lucile, cheerily. "And if my nose does not
deceive me, there issueth from the regions of various kitchens a blithe
and savory odor--as of fresh muffins, golden-yellow eggs, just fried to a
turn, and luscious, juicy, crisp----"
"Oh, Lucy, don't! I can't bear it!" shrieked Jessie, covering her ears
with her hands. "Eggs and bacon and--oh--oh----"
"No; bacon and eggs," corrected Evelyn, soberly; "and cereal, with lots
and oodles of rich cream--and maybe some marmalade----"
"Is this a conspiracy?" cried Jessie, glowering belligerently at the two
mischievous faces. "Girls, if you only had an idea how hungry I am, you
wouldn't joke; it's too serious."
"My goodness, don't you think we're hungry, too?" cried Lucile. "Why, I'm
so hungry a piece of dried bread would taste like--like----" She hunted
desperately for a comparison.
"Ambrosia and nectar," began Evelyn.
"And a pinch of angels' food mixed in," finished Lucile, laughing. "Why,
I'd steal, murder, anything, for it!"
"My, you must be worse off than I am," said Jessie, regarding her friend
with awe. "I wouldn't do all that for anything less than chicken."
Then they all laughed, just because they couldn't help it--the world was
such a wonderful place to live in.
"Just the same, I've never eaten anything since that tasted like the food
we cooked in camp," sighed Lucile.
"You must guard against giving wrong impressions, Lucy," Jessie
admonished, gravely. "Anybody, hearing you, might actually imagine you
could cook."
"When I made that remark I had you in mind, Jessie, dear," purred
Lucile.
"In that case, of course----"
"I wonder what the girls are doing this minute," Evelyn interrupted,
dreamily. "I'd give the world to get just one little glimpse of them and
our guardian and Jim and Jeddie----"
"Don't! You make me homesick," pleaded Lucile. "It seems strange to think
there's a whole ocean between us. I wonder if we'll be able to tell our
guardian, when we do see her, that we have tried faithfully to live up
to the camp-fire laws--even when we were so far away."
"Well, there are two of them that we surely haven't broken," said Evelyn
soberly, "and they are--hold on to health, and be happy."
"Yes; and we've pursued knowledge so hungrily that I haven't begun to get
the facts all straightened out yet," said Jessie, in funny bewilderment.
"I guess we're all in the same boat there," Lucile comforted. "There is
one thing I'm learning pretty well, though, and that is to count in
shillings and pence. I can figure in English money almost as well as in
United States now."
"So can I, and I haven't eaten more than two candies in a week, and they
were little ones," Jessie confided, virtuously.
"And I haven't used slang for, oh, I don't know how long," cried Evelyn.
"And I wasn't rude even to that old man who stepped on my foot and then
looked cross--"
Lucile laughed infectiously. "Goodness, we're in a fair way to become
three little angels," she laughed.
"Aren't you girls coming in to breakfast?" said Phil, appearing for a
minute at the door as they passed. "If you are, follow me"--and they
needed no second invitation.
In response to Mrs. Applegate's very cordial invitation, Mrs. Payton and
the girls had made their visit the day before. It was then that they had
learned, to their surprise, that the former owned a beautiful motor boat,
anchored farther up the Thames. What was their great delight when Mrs.
Applegate voiced her hope that they had made no special plans for the
morrow, as she had arranged a little party and was counting on them to
make it complete. Of course, they had assured her that no plans could be
so important as to stand in the way of so tempting an invitation; so it
had been settled to the satisfaction of every one.
It was just nine o'clock when they climbed into the automobile and Mr.
Payton started to give the chauffeur his directions. He was to drive
through Hyde Park, entering it through the beautiful gate at Hyde Park
Corner and ending with the magnificent Marble Arch. From there they would
drive straight to Henley, where they were to meet the Applegates.
"It's good we started early; now we can see lots before we meet the other
people," said Jessie, contentedly.
"Can't we get out, Dad," begged Lucile, "and get a little closer look at
Kensington Gardens--I love to say it; it sounds so very English, don't
you know--just for a little while? Can't we, Mother? It looks so
pretty!"
"No; we'll have just time to ride through the park," Mrs. Payton
answered, and Lucile must needs be satisfied.
"I read somewhere that they took several hundred acres from the park to
enlarge the gardens," Phil volunteered. "Is that so, Dad?"
"Yes; three hundred, I think it was," his father answered. "And now here
we are, before the famous Hyde Park itself!"
As they entered the park through a most imposing gateway the girls
uttered a little cry of admiration.
"The lawns are like velvet!" cried Lucile. "And those exquisite flowering
shrubs! What do you call them, Mother?"
"I think they are hawthorne bushes," Mrs. Payton answered, absently.
"And the flowers! Did you ever see such gorgeous tints?" said Jessie.
"And the splendid old trees! Why, they look as if they might be a million
years old!"
"I bet some of them could tell many a tale of duels fought beneath their
shade in the time when such things were the fashion," remarked Phil, and
Evelyn turned to him with shining eyes.
"You mean real duels, where they both fight till one of them gets killed?
Oh!"
"It's plain to see you were born a century too late, Evelyn," Jessie
remarked, mournfully.
"I don't care; it must have been fun," she maintained.
"Lots," Lucile agreed, gravely. "I can't imagine anything funnier than
having a couple of silked and satined gentlemen sticking spears into each
other for my sweet sake."
The description did not coincide in the least with that of authors and
historians who love to dwell on those chivalrous days, but it
accomplished its purpose, nevertheless; it sent our girls into gales of
laughter.
"You're jealous, that's all," Evelyn remarked, when she could make
herself heard.
The beauty and grandeur of the great Marble Arch sobered them a trifle
and they were enthusiastic in their admiration. Then, when they could
look no longer, they continued toward their rendezvous, leaving the
beautiful, historic park behind and speeding along the Thames embankment
toward Henley.
As they advanced further out of the city and deeper into the country,
they were dazzled by the beauty of the scenery. The sun struck hot and
bright upon the road, while the shrubs and foliage on the outskirts of
the woodland seemed outlined in molten gold against the softer background
of shadowy green. The river shone and sparkled in the brilliant sun like
some great, glistening jewel turned to liquid sunshine. The world was
bathed in gold.
"If our guardian were only here!" Lucile murmured. "And little
Margaret!"
Jessie turned to her, surprised. "How did you know what I was thinking
about?" she demanded.
"I didn't," said Lucile; "only, when I see the woods and the water, it
makes me think of the camp-fire and our guardian and little
Margaret----"
"Isn't this where we stop, Dad?" Phil interrupted; and they had no time
for further conversation.
As they alighted, a man came up to them and, touching his hat, said that
he was from the "Vigil" and was looking for a party bound there.
Upon Mr. Payton's assuring the man that his was the party in question,
they stepped into the trim little launch that was to bear them to their
destination.
"Say, wouldn't it be great to have a little motor boat like this down at
the river?" said Lucile, trailing her hand in the warm water. "Just think
of the races we could have with it--although nothing could be much more
exciting than the one we had," she added, loyally.
"Of course it couldn't," Jessie agreed. "I'd rather paddle any time."
"You must admit you can't go quite as fast," teased Phil. "Almost, of
course, but not quite."
"We never admit anything," Lucile retorted. "Besides, I dare say we could
go a good deal faster than some motor boats."
"Sure," said Phil, encouragingly. "I've seen lots of old tubs, minus the
motor, that I'm sure you could run rings around."
"Phil, if you don't stop talking about things you don't understand,"
began Jessie.
"Is there anything?" asked Phil, with interest.
"We'll dump you out and make you walk ashore," she added, treating his
remark with the haughty disdain it deserved.
"It's a long way to shore," said Phil, with a rueful glance over his
shoulder. "Give me one more chance, fair damsel, and I will promise never
to offend again."
"Oh, if I could only believe him!" said Jessie, prayerfully.
Lucile laughed and flipped a salt drop toward the offending Phil. "You
mustn't be too hard on him, Jessie," she remonstrated. "You know, he
really might be worse."
"Thanks, sweet sister," said Phil, gratefully.
By this time the little launch had noisily chug-chugged its way among the
various craft, small and large, and had finally come to a standstill
beside a beautiful boat, upon whose bow and stern was engraved the name
"Vigil."
The Applegates, proud owners of the "Vigil," crowded eagerly to the rail
to welcome their guests.
"Oh, I'm so glad you could come," cried Mrs. Applegate, as Phil and Mr.
Payton climbed the short ladder preparatory to helping the women folk on
board. "The Dickensons and Archie Blackstone--we came over with them, you
know--are on board."
There was an enthusiastic meeting between the fellow-voyagers, for they
had formed a sort of mutual-admiration society while on board the
"Mauretania" and were only too glad to come together again.
While their fathers and mothers were talking, the young folks had seized
upon the opportunity to look about them. They were just at the height of
this delightful process when Mrs. Applegate hailed them.
"Don't you girls want to come down in the cabin and take your wraps off?"
she called.
"Surely; we're coming right away," Lucile answered for them.
"Why do you have to fix up any?" protested Archie. "You look just fine
just as you are. What's the use of wasting an hour?"
"We're not going to fix up," denied Lucile; then added, "It won't take us
an hour, anyway. We'll be back in five minutes."
"Oh, how I'd like to believe you!" said Archie, as they disappeared down
the companionway.
"Get out your watch," challenged Lucile. "I'll wager a pound of my
home-made fudge against a pound of Huyler's that we'll be back before the
five minutes are up."
"If I were you, Arch," said Phil, loudly, for the benefit of his sister,
"I'd rather lose than win," which was treated with a laugh of merry
derision.