“I sympathise with you,” said her father, “and, meanwhile, to console yourself, suppose you bend your mighty mind to the problem of getting away. Do you see any objection to our leaving for parts unknown the day after to-morrow?”
“Depends on Brownie and the tucker,” said Norah practically.
“That part’s all right; Brownie guarantees to have everything ready to-morrow night if you help her.”
“Why, of course I will, Daddy.”
“And you have to get your own preparations made.”
“That won’t take long,” said Norah, with a grin. “Brush, comb, tooth-brush, pyjamas; that’s all, Dad!”
“Such minor things as soap and towels don’t appear to enter into your calculations,” said her father. “Well I can bear it!”
“Oh, you silly old Dad! Of course I know about those. Only Brownie always packs the ordinary, uninteresting things.”
“I foresee a busy day for you and Brownie tomorrow,” Mr. Linton said. “I’ll have a laborious time myself, fixing up fishing tackle—if Jim and his merry men left me with any. As for Billy, he will spend the day grubbing for bait. Wherefore, everything being settled, come and play me ‘The Last Rose of Summer,’ and then say good-night.”
Norah was up early, and the day passed swiftly in a whirl of preparations. Everything was ready by evening, including a hamper of monumental proportions, the consumption of which, Mr. Linton said, would certainly render the party unfit for active exertion in the way of fishing. Billy’s delight had made itself manifest in the broad grin which he wore all day while he dug for worms, and chased crickets and grass-hoppers. The horses were brought in and stabled overnight, so that an early start might be made.