Thirty handsome sleighs with their floating plumes and luxurious robes, drawn by thirty spans of beautiful horses was the alluring procession which entered Oak Knowe grounds on the eventful Saturday; and three hundred happy girls, each in her best attire piled into them. Yes, and one small boy! For who could bear to leave behind that one last child of the great family? And a boy who in but a week’s time had learned to clean shoes so well and promptly?
So clad in his new suit, of the school’s uniform, “Such as all we men folks wear”—as he had proudly explained to his mother when he first appeared in this before her—and with a warm top-coat and cap to match, the happy youngster rode in the leading sleigh in which sat Lady Jane herself.
Of how those happy young folks took possession of the exhibition hall, that had been reserved for them; and smiled or shuddered over the lifelike images of famous men and women; and finally tore themselves away from the glib tongue of the exhibitor and his fascinating show—all this any schoolgirl reader can picture for herself.
Then of the dinner at the great hotel, in a beautiful room also reserved that they might indulge their appetites as hunger craved without fear or observation of other guests: the slow drive about the city, and the swift drive home—with not one whit of the gayety dimmed by any untoward accident.
“Oh! it’s been a perfect success! Nothing has happened that should not, and I believe that I’ve been the happiest girl of all! But such a crowd of them. Better count your flock, Miss Tross-Kingdon, maybe, and see if any are missing;” said Lady Jane as she stepped down at the Oak Knowe door.
“I don’t see how there could be, under your care, my Lady, but I’ll call a mental roll.”
So she did. But the roll was not perfect. Two were missing. Why?