Betty smiled in an elder-sisterly fashion. “Well, I always did like to study history, but it surely makes it nicer and easier to do it this way. But besides that, John, don’t you think it’s queer and very interesting to see the way the English do things—all their customs, I mean. They’re so different from ours! Why, when I first saw Barbara that day at the train, I thought it was the funniest thing that her hair was all hanging loose down her back. I wouldn’t think of being so babyish! I thought perhaps she’d lost off her ribbon maybe, but she’s worn it that way ever since. And her little sailor-hat looks so countrified as she has it,—’way down over her ears!”
“I’d feel like ‘Little Lord Fauntleroy’ going around with those clothes on!”—Page [84].
“I know it; it seemed mighty funny to me to see Philip’s black suit with the long trousers, his broad collar, and skimpy short coat! It’s what all the boys at the Eton School wear, he says. They must feel like fools! Why, I’d feel like—like—‘Little Lord Fauntleroy’ going around with those clothes on all the time!” John’s voice was full of scorn, yet his eyes twinkled with fun. “But, the high hat, just like father’s opera-hat, which Philip wears, beats it all!” he continued. “I’m so used to it now, though, that I don’t think of it any more. It’s queer how soon you get used to things! It’s just like riding along the streets, and keeping to the left instead of to the right. The first time I rode in a hansom (you weren’t there that day, Betty) and we suddenly turned a corner, keeping close to the left curb, I poked open the little door in the roof and shouted, ‘Hey there! Mister! You’ll bump into something if you don’t look out!’ The driver just stared; he didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.”
“Yes,” went on Betty in her turn, “keeping to the left did seem queer at first. You know, John, how often we have wished that Dan and the automobile were over here. Honestly, I think Dan would surely have an accident! He never could remember to keep to the left! Now, we simply must go on with our letters! Begin when I say three! One—two—(hurry, John, you haven’t dipped your pen!), three!” and both commenced to write industriously.
The letters were finally finished just as the tea-bell rang. Betty ran to wash her hands, and then they went down to the library, where tea was served every afternoon that they were at home.
“Why! I quite like tea over here!” Betty remarked. “I never drink it at home! Mother would be so surprised if she saw me! Do all English people drink it every afternoon as you do, Mrs. Pitt?”
“Yes, it seems to go with the English people, somehow. We’d quite as soon think of doing without our breakfast or dinner as our four-o’clock-tea. You’ve noticed, my dear, how I always manage to get my tea at some little shop when we are on one of our sight-seeing tours. Really, I am quite lost without it! Oh! it’s just a habit, of course.” As she spoke, Mrs. Pitt poured herself another cup.
When the tea things had been removed, and a fire was lighted, stories were called for.