“She—she’s a regular little floating palace!” Lucile had stammered.
“Tut! Tut!” Mr. Holmes had remonstrated, “not quite a palace, though comfortable enough, and not floating at all, at the present moment.”
“It will be a cruise—the winter cruise of the O Moo,” Lucile had exclaimed in delight.
Had she but known how real these words would be to her some time hence—“The winter cruise of the O Moo”—she might have shuddered with fear and been sorely tempted not to accept her new home.
The power of divination was not one of her talents, so, with Marian at her side, she had proceeded to lift the heavy canvas which enshrouded the yacht’s deck, and, having crept ...
A truly wonderful cabin it was, all done in dark oak, with broad panels of green canvas along the walls, equipped with heavy oak tables and heavily over-stuffed chairs and lounges. It presented the appearance of a splendidly furnished but rather eccentric living room.
Here at one end the touch of a lever sent an electric range springing up from the floor. A second lever lowered a partition between this suddenly improvised kitchenette and the living room. Two cupboards to the right of this kitchen displayed dishes and cooking utensils. The opposite wall furnished a table which folded up when not in use. Behind this was a fully equipped kitchen cabinet.
“Convenient when in use, out of the way when not needed,” had been the doctor’s only comment.
This kitchen was forward. Aft were to be found four double berths. Modeled after the upper berths of a Pullman sleeper, these gave the maximum of comfort and when folded up occupied no space at all.
“It’s wonderful!” had been the most the girls could say. “And, oh! Doctor Holmes, we’ll pay you rent for it. You surely must allow us to do that,” Marian had exclaimed.