“Perhaps,” said Miss Raybold, in a clear, decisive voice, “Mr. Matlack may know hunting stories that will be new to all of us, but before he begins them I have something which I would like to say.”
“All right,” said Mrs. Perkenpine, seating herself promptly upon the ground; “if you’re goin’ to talk, I’ll stay. I’d like to know what kind of things you do talk about when you talk.”
“I was just now remarking,” said Miss Corona, “that I am very glad indeed to meet with those who, like Mr. and Mrs. Archibald, are willing to set their feet upon the modern usages of society (which would crowd us together in a common herd) and assert their individuality.”
Mr. Archibald looked at the speaker inquiringly.
“Of course,” said she, “I refer to the fact that you and Mrs. Archibald are on a wedding-journey.”
At this remark Phil Matlack rose suddenly from the tree-trunk and Martin dropped his pipe. Mr. Clyde turned his gaze upon Margery, who thereupon burst out laughing, and then he looked in amazement from Mr. Archibald to Mrs. Archibald and back again. Mrs. Perkenpine sat up very straight and leaned forward, her hands upon her knees.
“Is it them two sittin’ over there?” she said, pointing to Margery and Clyde. “Are they on a honey-moon?”
“No!” exclaimed Arthur Raybold, in a loud, sharp voice. “What an absurdity! Corona, what are you talking about?”
To this his sister paid no attention whatever. “I think,” she said, “it was a noble thing to do. An assertion of one’s inner self is always noble, and when I heard of this assertion I wished very much to know the man and the woman who had so asserted themselves, and this was my principal reason for determining to come to this camp.”
“But where on earth,” asked Mr. Archibald, “did you hear that we were on a wedding-journey?”