Marjorie and Jerry gallantly offered themselves as Robin’s escorts across the moonlit campus to Silverton Hall. They took hold of her arms and paraded her between them, expatiating to her as they rushed her along at a hiking stride, on the value of their company. In front of Silverton Hall they lingered briefly for a last animated exchange of laughing pleasantries, then Jerry and Marjorie turned their steps toward the entrance at the east end of the campus which gave on the pike toward Hamilton Estates.
“It seems strange to be walking out of the campus gates at this time of night.” Marjorie made this light observation as the two Travelers stepped from the college premises and out upon Hamilton Pike.
“We’re enchanted, you know. We broke the spell for a little while this evening. There’s the enchanted trail back to the good fairy’s castle.” Jerry pointed to the pike, shining and white under the moon’s clear, burning lamp. “That’s the way I’ve felt most of the time since we settled ourselves at the Arms.”
“So have I. It’s not only Hamilton Arms that seems enchanted. Hamilton Estates is like a fairy-tale kingdom,” Marjorie added to Jerry’s fancy.
“The Kingdom of Castles,” Jerry instantly supplied. “And in the heart of the kingdom dwelt Goldendede, a fairy empress.”
As they continued on their way to the Arms the pair amused themselves with the weaving of a fairy tale about Miss Susanna, Hamilton Estates and themselves as willing victims of enchantment.
“Bing! that nearly shattered the enchantment,” grumbled Jerry as an automobile whisked past them from the direction in which they had come. “There’s nothing fairy-like about a buzz-buggy. That particular one butted into our fairy tale and reu-ined it.”
“Never mind. You’ve been truly inspired since we left the campus tonight, Jeremiah,” Marjorie consoled. “Goldendede is a beautiful name for Miss Susanna. The Kingdom of Castles exactly suits Hamilton Estates. You couldn’t have named this aloof collection of turreted gabled houses better.”
“That’s higher commendation than you ever gave the Bean Jingles. It makes up for your sad lack of appreciation of those gems. I am so mollified, Bean!” Jerry fairly purred gratification.
“I’d appreciate your art of jingling more, Jeremiah, if it were addressed to someone else. Leila or Ronny or Vera Jingles would be less personal.”