“But Betty, I haven’t decided anything yet,” Babe protested hastily. “I may decide to go on being a man-hater just the same. Anyway John is only the exception that proves the rule.”
“Well, certainly, Babe,” Betty went on seriously, “you wouldn’t want him to have any trouble with his father on your account.”
“Of course not,” said Babe earnestly. “I couldn’t bear to have him do that. That’s why it all worries me so.”
“Then why not tell him that you think he ought to stick to college and try to please his father, whatever happens?”
Babe considered, frowning. “I will. A year isn’t so terribly long, when you’re young. I’ll—yes, I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t decide to go back to college and do his best to make his father happy why I’ll just return his cairngorm pin.”
The few remaining days of the girls’ stay in London flew swiftly by. It was the regular thing for John to join them for a part of each day. Sometimes when he was not too busy at the British Museum, Mr. Dwight came too. Billy Benson, who was an indefatigable sight-seer, divided his time between John and the girls and Mr. Trevelyan, who kept modestly in the background, always ready if Billy wanted his society, and always having “business” to attend to when Billy was otherwise engaged. Billy, who was an impressionable youth, was forever singing his new friend’s praises.
“He’s so thoughtful and considerate,” he declared to Babbie one morning. “My invitation to the countess’s dance came this morning.” He held out a daintily engraved card. “What did he do but write to his sister to see if I might bring you along. No, I didn’t suggest it. It was all his own idea. He said that his sister would be the only woman there who spoke English, and as the guest of honor she’ll be busy of course. And as I can’t ‘parlez-vous’ one small word, he’s afraid I’ll be bored—or a bore. Would you come?”
Babbie wasn’t sure that they would be in Paris in time for the dance. Even if they were she hadn’t any evening dress with her, and anyway, she was afraid her mother wouldn’t be willing that she should go. “But it was fine of him to think of it,” she ended. “I’m going to ask mother if she minds his joining us on the trip to Hampton Court.”
The Hampton Court expedition was to furnish the grand finale for the London chapter of “B. A.’s Abroad.” They were to go up to Hampton by an early afternoon train, see the palace and gardens, have dinner at an inn with a fascinating name just outside the palace gates, and row down the river at sunset, taking a train back to London somewhere further down the line. Mrs. Hildreth was going to chaperon the party, and she had no objection to Babbie’s asking Mr. Trevelyan to join it. She shook her head, however, over the invitation to the countess’s dance. “You couldn’t go without a chaperon, dear,” she said. “And if the idea is that Mr. Trevelyan’s sister is to chaperon you, why I shouldn’t be at all willing unless I had met her beforehand.”
Billy assured her easily that all those details could be arranged. “Don’t say no until you have to,” he begged. “I’m afraid Trevelyan will be discouraged at the prospect of my dumbness and try to get out of taking me. Besides, it would be such a jolly lark if you came.”