“Oh, there’s Philip now, Mothery,” exclaimed Cathalina, as Mrs. Van Buskirk and the girls, following the crowd which was crossing the gangplank, reached the outer air and made ready to cross. Lilian had seen him, but made no comment as she caught a welcoming glance from Philip’s dark eyes.
It was no time at all before they were leaning back on comfortable cushions in a luxurious car, while Philip and Mrs. Van Buskirk conferred a little with the chauffeur, who touched his cap and departed.
“Boston is the home of our chauffeur,” explained Mrs. Van Buskirk to the girls as Philip helped her into the machine. “He is to have a short vacation while Philip and Campbell drive us home.”
Philip Van Buskirk and Campbell Stuart were of about the same height, tall, slight and active, but of contrasting complexions, though Philip’s skin was clear and smooth.
“Phil is the handsomest,” thought Lilian, as she looked at the two boys in front, and she regretted her own present complexion, rather sunburned from the camp experience, though not as bad as Cathalina had extravagantly indicated. For Lilian was recalling a remark of Philip’s, in the pine grove at camp, when he looked at her admiringly while he said something about liking “golden-haired, blue-eyed, lovely-faced girls.”
At the same time, Hilary of the dark brown locks was admiring Campbell’s fairness and contrasting him favorably with the graceful, stylish Philip. Both youths had the square shoulders and fine carriage which their early years at the military school in the South had given them.
Cathalina, whose spiritual face and dreamy, sky-blue eyes had not changed much in spite of the practical experiences of the last two years, was thinking, “I’ll soon be in New York,” and visualized a call from a strong, well-built young officer with sunny brown hair about the shade of her own, a wave in one front lock, deep-set brown eyes, and a serious, kind face.
Betty, whose coloring was like Cathalina’s, but on whose rounder face two dimples chased in and out, was not thinking at all of any young man, but of Boston and the sights she was to see immediately, for her knight of the Hallowe’en mirror was far away, and she would not see Donald Hilton till school began.
CHAPTER II
CHICKEN SENSE
So far, the weather had been ideal for the drive to New York. It was warm but not too warm. The roads were well dried off from recent showers, but not dusty, and the country looked fresh and green. They had stopped in some of the most delightful places their guests had ever seen, and the young people had made one long picnic of the whole trip, after their exciting day in Boston. Philip joked Campbell in private about the “Hilaryous” time he was having and Campbell retorted with a conundrum, “Why are you like a sailor?”