“It’s a party,” explained Babe, when she had escaped from the embraces of a pretty young girl who had taken a fancy to her on shipboard. “That fat man with spectacles is the conductor. See them all gather around him while he reads selections from Tam O’Shanter. Goodness! Wouldn’t I hate to do Europe with a bunch like that!”
“Let’s go back,” said Babbie sadly. “Haven’t we seen everything?”
“And if we hurry we may get there in time for tea at Miss Jelliff’s,” added Betty. “There’s a room we haven’t been in yet, you know.”
Babbie was very quiet all the way back. As they took their places around the tea-table she announced proudly, “Third maxim for tourists: Avoid birthplaces. Now I can have first choice of cups.”
“Don’t you think we ought to have a maxim about avoiding conducted parties?” asked Babe, helping herself to bread.
“No,” said Madeline decisively, “I don’t. The kind of tourists that our maxims are intended for would know better than that without being told. Girls, do you want to know what I’m going to do next year?”
“Of course,” chorused her three friends eagerly.
“Start a fascinating tea-room like this in either Harding or New York.”
“But I thought you were going to live in Sorrento with your family.”
“Don’t all Bohemians have to be artists?”