As the moon came up, the breeze died away to a soft breath from the South and the lake was unusually calm. Sitting in groups, the girls told stories or chatted until the launch arrived. By moonlight in the Greycliff the Greycliff songs or latest ragtimes were flung to the evening mists, till the Junior picnic was over and the big hall once more received its children.
“How’s your arm, Polly?” asked Hilary, as in kimono and slippers she appeared in Pauline’s door, while the penetrating odor of liniment made everybody on the floor think of athletics.
“Fine,” replied Pauline; “I’ll be asleep before you get to your room.”
“Goodnight, then,” and Hilary came over to give Pauline a good hug. “It’s terribly early, but I believe I could sleep if the whole hall were prancing by!” With this, Hilary scampered home to find Cathalina already asleep and to slip into her own comfortable nest after sending up the grateful prayer which had been in her heart since morning.
CHAPTER XXI
DREAMS AND FAREWELLS
With arms about each other’s waists, Cathalina Van Buskirk and Elizabeth Barnes were walking slowly in the winding path through Greycliff Wood. Cathalina’s sunny locks were close to Betty’s dark ones.
“Just think!” Betty was saying, “I won’t see you for three months!”
“I wish you could go home with me this summer. Can’t you?”
“Not possibly. Mother has not been well and I am needed at home. She has been terribly worried, too, over Aunt Dorothy’s family. Aunt Dorothy married a Canadian and they live up in Toronto,—but the two oldest boys are both fighting in France. Dick is wild to go too; he hears from the boys once in a while. Father doesn’t worry, but Mother is sure that we shall get into the war some time.”
“How old is your brother?”