“Twenty,” said the senator solemnly, taking them out of his pocket.
So there was enough money to get the English girl to London, and the Irish girl to County Cork and then back to the States to work for her blue-eyed baby sister, and something over to pay the baby’s board with the “ould folks,” and to help out the poor man with the big family of children.
“And the best of it is, it’s given us something to do,” said Babe the last afternoon on board. “I don’t believe I should have been seasick if we’d thought of this sooner.”
“Easy to say that when land is in sight,” said Madeline loftily, squinting at the horizon line.
And sure enough land was in sight and presently it turned out to be the loveliest, greenest land that the girls had ever seen.
“What is it?” demanded Babe excitedly. “An island or a country?”
None of the girls knew, but a friendly passenger explained that it was both an island and a country, for it was Ireland.
“Why, of course,” cried Babe. “That’s why it’s so green. Is it really greener than other places, or does it only look greener because we haven’t seen any other places for eight days?”
Madeline and Betty thought it was really greener, while the B’s inclined to the opinion that it couldn’t be—that it was the atmosphere, perhaps.
“It’s certainly a queer atmosphere,” said Babe, as they hurried up on deck after dinner, to see the tender full of passengers off for “Derry.” “It’s eight o’clock this minute, and the sunset hasn’t finished up.”