“I’m sure, Miss,” said the landlady, addressing Flossy, who looked the most responsible of the party, “I only wish the gentleman had sent his orders beforehand, for in the middle of the week, you see, Miss, we don’t have so much company. If you’ll excuse me, Miss—” and she vanished in search of various necessaries.
Arthur soon returned, saying:
“We’re going to have tea in an arbour. It’s a lovely spot!”
The three girls followed him down the little gravel path, bordered by box edgings, to an erection which was termed by the proprietress “the harbour,” and which was built of wood and partly shaded by an apple-tree. Monthly roses climbed up its trellis-work front; and stones, shells, and broken bottles were picturesquely disposed in heaps at its two sides. It contained some chairs and a round table, on which preparations for their meal were begun, and at present consisted of a cloth and large mustard-pot. This was, however, followed by slices of ham, bread and butter, and water-cresses, and by some tea, which—as neither young lady would take on herself to pour it out—Arthur superintended, and which proved so atrocious that he substituted ginger-beer for the girls and some bottled beer for himself. They might have drunk the tea, however, rejoicing; for they hardly knew whether the setting sun on the river or the steel forks and the great tall tumblers were the most delightful, so full of merriment were they at this unusual and amusing festivity, and they afforded quite as much amusement as they received; for hearty landlady and pretty barmaid knew well enough who these blushing, smiling, well-dressed young ladies were, and that Mr Arthur Spencer, of Redhurst, was engaged to one of them.
Presently strawberries and raspberries and currants, red, black, and white, appeared on the table.
“Mysie,” whispered Arthur, as he helped her to the fruit, “the Oxley folk always come out here for their wedding trip. If they’re very swell they stay a week. Shall we follow their example?”
Mysie, of course, blushed and bridled, and Arthur said aloud:
“I propose we come and have tea here every summer. This is the 15th of July; let us remember it next year.”
“Perhaps it will rain next year,” said Frederica.
“Then we will have tea inside the bow-window. What, Mysie! you’re not looking at your watch? It’s not time to go home.”