As they entered the park through a most imposing gateway the girls uttered a little cry of admiration.
“The lawns are like velvet!” cried Lucile. “And those exquisite flowering shrubs! What do you call them, Mother?”
“I think they are hawthorne bushes,” Mrs. Payton answered, absently.
“And the flowers! Did you ever see such gorgeous tints?” said Jessie. “And the splendid old trees! Why, they look as if they might be a million years old!”
“I bet some of them could tell many a tale of duels fought beneath their shade in the time when such things were the fashion,” remarked Phil, and Evelyn turned to him with shining eyes.
“You mean real duels, where they both fight till one of them gets killed? Oh!” 129
“It’s plain to see you were born a century too late, Evelyn,” Jessie remarked, mournfully.
“I don’t care; it must have been fun,” she maintained.
“Lots,” Lucile agreed, gravely. “I can’t imagine anything funnier than having a couple of silked and satined gentlemen sticking spears into each other for my sweet sake.”
The description did not coincide in the least with that of authors and historians who love to dwell on those chivalrous days, but it accomplished its purpose, nevertheless; it sent our girls into gales of laughter.