[CHAPTER XI]
THE CAPSIZED BOAT
Allan and Pete didn’t forget that day for a long time. In retrospect, it was the brightest one between the beginning of the college year and the Christmas recess. For long afterward Pete would point with pride to his performance at table on that day, and declare that he believed that should he live to be a hundred he could never eat as much again. Dinner began at two o’clock and ended, not because of lack of further viands but because of inability on the part of the guests, at half-past four.
The family at Hillcrest consisted of Mr. Guild, his wife, a pleasant-faced and sweet-voiced woman several years his junior, and a three-year-old son and heir, who did not make his appearance at table but who was afterward ceremoniously introduced in the nursery. Both host and hostess appeared to have no other desire in life than to make the two guests happy and utterly ruin their digestions.
Even Pete had had momentary qualms over appearing at table in the unconventional attire of shooting-coat and flannel shirt, but their objections had been politely overruled, and by the time the turkey had made its appearance they had both lost sight of the fact that they were not dressed in the mode. It was while carving the turkey that the morning’s episode was recalled.
“This, Mr. Burley,” said their host, “is only turkey. Had there been more time, we would have had a duck prepared for you.”
Allan wondered, while he laughed, whether Mrs. Guild had heard the story of the duck-hunt. The demure expression about her mouth led him to suspect that she had.
After dinner they adjourned to the library again, and Pete was induced to smoke a cigar, although, as Allan guessed, he would much rather have used his corn-cob pipe. Mrs. Guild disappeared for a while, and Pete and Allan stretched themselves luxuriously in front of the fire and listened to their host and did a good deal of talking themselves. Mr. Guild led them to tell of their college life, and displayed such sympathy with their views and ambitions that at the end of an hour the two boys had become his enthusiastic admirers. He knew the West like a book, and Pete became quite excited—for Pete—swapping recollections and stories of “out there.”
After a while Mrs. Guild appeared again, and they went into the drawing-room and sat silent and happy in the firelight while she played for them. She apologized for knowing no college songs, but Pete gallantly assured her that he preferred “straight music.” Still later there was a four-handed game of billiards in an upper hall, in which Mrs. Guild and Allan were badly defeated by the host and Pete. Then came the visit to the pink-hung nursery and the formal introductions to Master Thomas Guild, Junior. And by that time it was after eight o’clock, and a surrey stood at the door, waiting to bear them back to Centerport.