“Nan Sherwood,” Bess threatened, “if you don’t break right down and tell us at once I’ll—I’ll—I’ll throw this pillow at you.” With this, she picked up one big soft pillow and raised her arm as though to pitch it right at Nan.
“I’ll give up,” Nan capitulated amid much laughter. “Do you know,” she said slowly and solemnly as though to give her words greater weight, “That Professor Krenner is going to Europe, too, this summer, that he will be in London when we are, and that he will take us on some of the sight-seeing tours that we are to take?”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Grace Mason depreciated. “I know something better, that none of you know. My mother and father are going to London and they are going to meet us there before we leave! What’s more, they are going to take Walter with them!”
Nan blushed. She had been secretly wondering whether or not Walter was going to get a chance to go to Europe this summer. She had been reluctant to ask Grace, because she hated so to be teased. Now she tried to be nonchalant about it.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she said, trying to act very much disinterested. The girls exchanged significant glances.
“Yes, isn’t it,” they emphasized.
Nan was dying to ask how it happened that Walter was going and who it was that had told Grace, but she didn’t dare to ask any questions. She held her peace and hoped that someone else would solve the riddle.
For a few moments, no one said anything. It was like a mutual conspiracy to tantalize Nan, but after a while, Bess’ own curiosity got the better of her. “How do you know, Grace,” she asked, “surely no mail has come through to you lately?”
“Not a particle!” Grace exploded. “But Dr. Beulah says that everyone has been so busy with these plans, writing back and forth, checking and rechecking on details, that there was no time to write just ordinary letters. It was she who told me that dad is going over on business and that Walter and mother are going along with him. Why, I’m almost as pleased as Nan,” she tormented her friend further, though she was secretly pleased that Nan liked her brother so much.
“But tell me, Nan,” she begged. “What were you and Dr. Beulah talking about so earnestly in the corner over your tea. I wanted like everything to interrupt, but even though everything was so informal that no less a person than Mrs. Cupp condescended to congratulate us, I hesitated to break in on one of Dr. Beulah’s tete-à-tetes. I hope she doesn’t scare the life out of me, while we are away. Imagine, being with her every day, eating—you do eat on a boat, don’t you?—at her table, walking the deck with her, and perhaps even sharing your cabin with her!”