“I know that Phil and Campbell will prefer it,” said Cathalina.
Some of the people at Greycliff Heights were much impressed by the arrival of what Hilary called, quoting from her Cæsar, “two youths of culture and valor,” at Greycliff Inn. Philip had brought Louis along to look after everything. “My last trip with a valet,” he told Lilian. “Louis and I are going to enlist together.”
The train came in early Saturday morning, and the boys wasted no time after breakfast, but telephoned to Greycliff Hall and later took a taxi out there. Miss Randolph invited them to stay for lunch, and while the two young men rather disliked the idea of lunching with so many fair damsels, they accepted for the sake of Cathalina, Lilian and Hilary, who were not averse to having the girls see them. “I’m so proud of you,” whispered Cathalina on one side of Philip, as they sat at Miss Randolph’s table.
After lunch, the two guests went back to the village to get ready for the trip, and the groom took over the horses. It was a sunshiny, cloudless day, a fresh breeze blowing from the lake, the birds singing, the fields green, and the picnic party as happy as could be.
“I’m going to take the advice of the poet,” said Philip, “and ‘gather rosebuds while I may.’ Let’s have this day to remember, Lilian.”
The rest were in the same mood. They followed the bridle path through the woods along the lake, toward Greycliff Village, then, by a little country road, took a gallop over the hills in another direction. The groom knew all the roads and directed them to the most attractive parts of the country. A great part of the time, the young people jogged along in pairs, saying part of the many things they had to say to each other in the time that seemed so short. In one lovely spot they all dismounted and strolled about, sat on logs or stumps, or picked the wild flowers, for nearly an hour. Hilary had swung her field glasses about her neck, and she and Campbell made up her list of spring birds, with many new ones.
Donald had, as usual, much to relate to Betty. He pinned violets on his “pansy girl,” although she declared that flowers were not appropriate to a riding habit. “I’m surely glad that I took your advice, Betty,” said he. “I would not have missed this picnic and ride for the world. And when Father and Mother and both the girls wrote me the fine letters they did, I was ashamed of thinking that I would go off without telling them. It is going to be all right. Father asked me, if I felt I could, to wait and see when the school would close, since I had told him that it might close earlier. He would very much like me to finish the year and get my credits and come home to see them. Then if I want to enlist, all right; and he said that he would not forbid my doing it at any time. But it is only a little while to wait, so I’ll do what they want me to.”
“I’m so relieved,” sighed Betty.
“On their account, I suppose,” said Donald, pulling down his mouth at the corners, in pretended resignation.
“On my own, too,” said Betty, laughing, and jumping up from the stump where they had been sitting, to run to her horse. “They are going. Didn’t you hear Miss West’s whistle blow? She has one of those referee whistles along.”