CHAPTER XXIV. — “WE THREE”
Nothing marred the pleasure of the trip on the Gallia and young Quincy and Tom could not have been happier than they were when the great steamer made its way up the Mersey towards its Liverpool pier.
A few hours only in the great bustling city and then they were off to find the house in which Tom's father was born and lived. It was near Chester, that modernized reminder of the old Roman days, and on their way to Fernborough Hall.
They found it uninhabited. The thatched roof was full of holes and the interior showed the devastation that wind and water had worked. Tall weeds filled the little garden and the general effect was dismal indeed.
“It won't do to take Dad a picture of this old shanty,” said Tom.
“Perhaps we can find a house that looks like it,” Quincy suggested.
They had no difficulty in doing that, for the same architectural plan, if the design be worthy the name, had plainly been followed in the construction of many cottages. They found one with the roof covered with moss and a garden full of old-fashioned flowers, and several views were taken with Quincy's camera.
“It's cheating in one way,” said Tom, “but it would break Dad's heart to see a picture of his old home as it really is—so we'll show him one as it ought to be.”