Polly did not tell the girls that she had learned what the secret trouble was between the two sisters. Someway, she could not. It seemed such a personal, tender secret that, after all, concerned only the two, and Sandy himself. Dear, stalwart, dauntless Chief Sandy! Polly wondered whether Miss Honoria knew him well. It did not seem as if any one who had met him, and come under the spell of that genial, generous spirit, could fail to sense its charm and worth. She could almost shut her eyes, and imagine him going up the broad stone steps at the Hall, and bowing over Miss Honoria’s hand. No, come to think of it, he wouldn’t bow, not the Chief. He was no courtly Southerner like the Admiral. More likely he would smile that broad sunny smile of his that seemed to take in all creation, and gripping Honoria’s hand in his, he would probably kiss her willy-nilly, in brotherly fashion, and say:
“Well, sister, how goes the world?”
Then what would the mistress of the Hall do? Polly smiled to herself. Would she faint, or would she gasp and laugh, or would she order the Northern invader from the sacred precincts of Calvert Hall? What would she do? Polly could hardly wait to find out. Someway, she decided, someway, it must be arranged for the meeting to happen.
“Does any one feel like taking a camping trip next week?” asked Mr. Murray, Monday night. “I won’t have the time to spare now girls, but if mother says so, we’ll start out a week from to-day, with a good team, and go camping.”
“Why, father, you’ll have to take more than one team, won’t you?” said Mrs. Murray. “I’ll leave Sally to cook for the boys, and go too.”
“Couldn’t we ride horseback?” Polly put in.
“I was figuring on a grub wagon that would take the tents too, and then fix up that old sheep wagon, for the girls to ride in. We can put four cross seats in that, mother, and the boxes and cupboards would come in handy. I’m afraid they’d get tired out riding.”
“If we did, we could hitch the ponies on behind, and get into the wagon, the way the pack-trains do. We’d love to ride, wouldn’t we, girls?”
“Listen to them,” exclaimed Jean. “Wouldn’t you think, to hear them talk, that they’d been in a saddle since they could walk. I’d let them ride, father. We’ll have the fun of teasing them after a good twenty-mile jolt over the mountain roads.”
“Monday then, and an early start. Archie and Neil will look after things, and it will do us good too, won’t it, mother?”