What the trip would have been had Gloria not decided to wait for the night train, Ruth could not guess. What it was was most unexpected. George, being first told, was the first person to show sulky displeasure at Gloria’s decision. For a moment Ruth thought that he was actually going to knock on Gloria’s door and remonstrate with her, but even George dared not do that, so instead he preceded Ruth to the station, heavily laden with boxes and bags. He was there when she arrived, as was also Terry, who laughed without any apparent regret at Gloria’s revolt.
“I rather hated to get up myself,” he said, “but a holiday is a holiday, and it’s part of the game to climb out of bed from one to ten hours earlier than usual. Besides, think how tired we’ll be tonight and what wonderful sleep we’ll get up there in the fresh air. There’ll be lots of snow, too. A few flakes fell here this morning, and that means that up in the mountains it will be thick and wonderful. I only hope it won’t be too cold.”
“Here comes Prince Aglipogue,” said Ruth.
The Prince was approaching, his great bulk thrusting aside the lesser human atoms in the station. Ruth was amazed to see that his curious travelling costume was finished by a top hat and wondered whether he would wear it in the train and in the sleigh from North Adams. Over the collar of his fur-lined overcoat his huge face rose, placid and self-satisfied, until he spied the waiting group with Gloria not among them.
“Has she not yet come?” he asked. “The time of the train is immediate; we will miss it.”
“Gloria has decided to take the evening train,” said Terry.
“Then I also will wait.”
“No, she especially asked that we all go ahead just as planned. Here’s George to take care of everything,” said Ruth.
“Did she send to me no personal message?”
“No; just that,” Ruth took pleasure in watching his face, like a cloud-flecked moon, in its annoyance. “We were all to go ahead and explain to Mrs. Peyton-Russell that Gloria will arrive in the morning.”