CHAPTER XIV
THE NEW CAMPER
It could be easily seen that Peggy was under some excitement. She almost sparkled as she ran into the little clearing, alone first, for Jack was doing her bidding with the horses. She was wearing a new riding outfit and cried, “Look at me, folks. Don’t I look grown up?”
Not a little was she taken back upon seeing the stranger, but she recovered herself quickly, especially as Dalton rose and took a step toward her as if to protect her from criticism. Gaily Peggy extended her hand high, its fingers drooping. “Congratulate me, Dal,” she said, “on some new clothes. We’re having company,—but excuse me, Beth, for rushing in this way.” Then she paused and waited to be introduced.
“Miss Ives,” said Beth, formally and sweetly, as if Peggy were as grown as she claimed to be, “you will be glad to meet Mr. Tudor of New York, a writer who is taking a vacation in our fine country.”
Peggy stepped forward a little to offer her hand prettily and modestly, as she had been taught to do. “I am glad to see you, Mr. Tudor, and I am sorry that I interrupted your visit, but this is the first time that the Eyrie has had company.
“The great excitement, girls,” she continued, looking at Leslie and Sarita, “is that we are having important guests and I can’t get over having new clothes and part of the responsibility.”
Evan Tudor had said the few pleasant words of greeting that were proper when he met Peggy, and stood by, interested. Jack Morgan now appeared, equally resplendent in riding togs that were new. He came forward as eagerly as Peggy had done, but as he was not saying anything, he was not embarrassed when he observed the stranger.
After Jack had been introduced, he began to explain why they had not been over. “Peggy and I have been trying to help my aunt with her plans. Uncle is bringing down, or up, from wherever they are a prince and princess, a grand duchess or two and I don’t know whom else for a sort of house party, I suppose. Aunt Kit had a telegram some time ago, but we just heard about it lately. Then Uncle wired that he did not know just when they could get together, but he would bring them in the yacht and everything was to be ready to entertain them in their accustomed style.”
“That might depend upon their recent fortunes, don’t you think, Mr. Morgan?” Mr. Tudor asked. He was standing with his hands behind him, a little smile on his rather thin face. “European royalty has had rather a hard time of it in some countries since the war.”
“You are right. I imagine that the Russian grand duchess doesn’t find it any too pleasant at home.”