Final plans for the picnic were made at the beach party. Lilian did not come down until late, but was as jolly as ever, avoiding any special conversation with Hilary. Everybody was happy at the prospect of the fun. “We want it to be a success,” said Eloise, anxiously. She was chairman of the general committee.
“O, it can’t help it,”—this in Helen’s pretty voice. “Just to get out in the Greycliff would be enough.”
The day of the picnic was warm and sunny, the lake all sparkles. Against the big rock at the foot of the cliff the spray dashed and foamed, but there was only the fresh morning breeze, with no signs of storm. The gulls were as busy as ever. A king-fisher rattled his noisy way at the mouth of the river and a white-winged tern dived near as the little Greycliff, comfortably full, chugged its way through the waves and left behind its churning wake.
Patricia West, the favorite young English teacher, was chaperone. Miss Randolph had suggested Dr. Carver, since that lady had not yet received the compliment of being asked to chaperone any of the picnics or parties. The committee did not utter a word, but glanced at each other in such dismay that Miss Randolph threw back her head and laughingly asked, “Well, whom do you want?”
“Miss West!” said they all in concert.
And Miss West it was. Cathalina had remained to whisper, “I’m sorry if you really wanted Dr. Carver to go. She would enjoy it.”
“No, child; if the girls dislike her, as I fear they do, she would have a hard time on this trip and it would spoil their fun.”
At the Island, half an hour’s ride away, the girls and their chaperone were unloaded, with all the picnic baskets and other impedimenta. The Greycliff then departed to go back to Greycliff dock, whence it was to take out several picnic parties that day to different points on the lake shore.
“Will Mickey go after the crowds in the same order tonight?” Hilary asked Miss West.
“Not quite. The Freshmen are to get in before dinner, the Sophomores later, and we may go home by moonlight.”