They talked a good deal about her, wondering who she was, where she lived and whether they would ever know her. After seeing her on horseback, they fell more and more under the spell of her charm and began to picture her the heroine of all sorts of stories.
Day-dreams and romantic stories however, had but a small place in a world so busily filled with lessons of various kinds. One Tuesday evening, Frances was openly groaning over the need of writing an essay upon Julius Caesar.
"Wouldn't you like him better if you saw something he did?" inquired Win, hearing her lamentations. "There's a castle in Jersey, part of which he built."
Fran's eyes opened incredulously and Roger whistled. "Is that one of
Bill Fish's yarns?" he demanded.
"Ante-dates him," replied Win. "It's Mont Orgueil, over the other side of the island. Let's have a picnic there to-morrow, take our lunch and stay all day. Mother, you must come. Don't say you've promised to make calls."
"I can go perfectly well," said Mrs. Thayne. "Only there is Roger's appointment with the dentist in the afternoon. He'll have to keep that, but there will be plenty of time for the picnic if we start early."
"Think of having an outdoor picnic in December," exclaimed Frances.
"We'll take Edith, of course."
"Of course," assented her mother. "And Estelle, if she will go. I wish she would. She shuts herself up so closely and seems to shrink from seeing people, but perhaps she will go to Orgueil just with us."
Even Edith could not persuade her sister to join the party though
Estelle was touched by their regret, evidently genuine.
"If you only would, Star," begged Edith. "You would enjoy it. You don't know how funny and nice they are to go with."