The real fun in the venture was buying the provisions and necessary camping outfits. That was money that must be spent and they could do it with a clear conscience. The lists were written and rewritten and revised a score of times until they could not think of a single thing that had been left out. The freight was sent off several days ahead of them to give poor Cousin Lizzie’s bed time to get there before them.
Poor Cousin Lizzie, indeed! She was brave about the undertaking up to the time of starting, but when she was handed into the common coach, there being no parlor car on that morning train, she almost gave up. Nothing but the memory of old Cousin Robert Carter’s kindness to her mother sustained her.
“A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children’s children,” she muttered as she sank on the dusty, dingy cushions of the very common, common day coach. “That is surely what old Cousin Robert Carter did. I have not ridden in such a coach for more than thirty years, I am sure. Why was this train chosen? There must be good trains running to the mountains that have chair cars.”
“Yes, Cousin Lizzie,” said Douglas, “but you see Greendale is a very small station and only the very accommodating accommodations stop there. The trains with chair cars stop only at the big places.”
Douglas was very tired and looked it. She was very pale and her firm mouth would tremble a little in spite of her self-control. No one seemed to notice it, as every one was tired and every one had been busy. She felt when they were once off that she could rest, if only Cousin Lizzie would not complain too much and if Helen and Lucy would not squabble and if dear little Bobby would not poke his head too far out of the window.
Dr. Wright came down to see them off and as he shook hands with Douglas, he looked very searchingly at her tired face.
“You must be selfish when you get to the mountains and rest for a week,” he said. “You are about all in.”
“Oh, I’ll be all right in a few minutes. It is just getting started that has tired me. Bobby, please don’t poke your head out,—your arm, either. Don’t you know something might come along and chop you right in two?”
“I’m a shover for this here train. If I don’t stick my arm way out the train a-runnin’ up behind us will c’lision with us.”
“See here, young man, you are still in my employ and I don’t intend to have you working for the C. & O. while you are working for me. When my chauffeur travels to the mountains, he has to keep his hands inside the windows and his head, too. He must be kind to his sisters, especially his Sister Douglas, who is very tired. I am really letting you off duty so you can take care of Douglas. You see, when a lot of women start on a trip they have to have some man with them to look after them.”