“Mercy, child, I hope you are not thinking of such things yet!”
“No, indeed, Aunt Hilary; all I can think of is Greycliff and the wonderful year I’m going to have. Honestly, I feel like dancing up and down sometimes and can hardly wait.”
So sped the summer days on wings, until finally golden September came once again with the ringing of school bells all over the land.
CHAPTER IV
GREYCLIFF
Greycliff Heights was the name of the small town where Mr. Van Buskirk and Cathalina found themselves one bright day in the middle of September. At the station were a few taxicabs decorated with Greycliff banners. A short spin over a pretty, winding road brought them out to the school called Greycliff. There they entered a broad gateway and glided around a curved drive to Greycliff Hall, the girls’ dormitory.
A rolling, grassy campus; flowers and a fountain; a scattered group of handsome grey stone buildings, vine-covered; a green wood, whose trees and bushes gradually thinned toward the sandy beach which lay between the campus proper and where the lake danced and shimmered at a distance,—these were what the eye could gather for a first impression.
“Look, Papa!” said Cathalina, “see those lovely horses. Do you suppose they belong here?”
“Very likely.”
At some distance beyond the campus, a large pasture was fenced in and there grazed about a dozen pretty ponies and as many horses.
“O, I do believe I shall like the riding lessons after I get over being afraid!”