The journey to the Grove was accomplished without notable incident. The sun shone upon the shallow water at such an angle that Mr. Quince was able to view the bottom of the river through the transparent liquid as a pathway stretching before him.
During the voyage the heat was not oppressive, and the infants slept while their mothers enjoyed a restful holiday. This peace was threatened only when an impromptu orchestra consisting of Sim on the harmonica and Ike on a pair of improvised bones showed a disposition to render some of the frivolous airs of the moment for the edification of the ladies.
Elgin’s Grove lay cool and inviting as the Nancy Jane stood in towards the shore. The shallowness of the water made it necessary to reach the bank by a narrow gang plank, thoughtfully provided by the steam boat commander. As soon as this was in position, Virginia led the party ashore where the farmer cordially welcomed them with the original remark, “Ain’t you folks afraid you’re lost?” The supplies were landed amidst much boisterous excitement by Kelly, assisted by Mr. Quince, Sim and Ike.
Mr. Jones escorted Miss Knight ashore, bearing her parasol. She joined Dr. Jackson and Virginia, who were making plans for the general welfare.
Suddenly the mill owner’s daughter turned to the stenographer and, smiling sweetly, said, “Mr. Jones, may I depend upon you to see that the cots are brought up from the boat?”
Mr. Jones bowed with great dignity. “You will always find me at your service, Miss Dale,” he responded, in dulcet tones. The day was rosy to him. The system of exercise, to which Kelly had unfeelingly condemned him, was having its effect. He felt better than he had for years. Likewise it appeared that his dreams were coming true. That very morning Obadiah had come to him and, in quite the approved manner of addressing private secretaries, saving a certain undue sharpness of tone, had said, “Jones, I wish you and Kelly to accompany my daughter on a picnic which she is giving today. The boat leaves the bridge at ten o’clock, I believe.” Now, too, had his employer’s daughter, aware of correct usages when private secretaries were about, singled him by name to assist her. It was of course to be regretted that this picnic was charitable in its nature and attended only by vulgar persons, but from the intimacy of such an occasion, it was but a step to the dances and dinners of his heart’s desire.
Filled with joy, Mr. Jones cast aside his coat and ran across the greensward with the grace of a fawn. He shouted for Kelly and Ike, and in a moment had gathered about him the strong men of the party. He issued his instructions in the terse, certain words of a leader of men. Under his cheery encouragement, cots, with a man at each end, moved rapidly from the boat to their appointed place beneath the trees.
Perceiving the flushed face and the speed of the stenographer’s movements, Virginia bestowed upon him a glorious smile of approval and called, “Oh, Mr. Jones, what a help you are to me!”
The private secretary became proud nigh unto the bursting point. He redoubled his efforts, and in a moment all but the last cot was ashore. Kelly uplifted the far end and bawled for aid.
Instantly, Mr. Jones was at hand to seize upon the shore end of the cot. A leg caught upon a stanchion. The stenographer jerked at it. “Get a move on you!” he commanded Kelly.