A young woman stood in the doorway, a very lovely young woman in a flowered silk gown. She courtsied down to the floor, then with a light laugh exclaimed, “Oh la, Peter Cotterell, whom have you here? What odd costumes the gentlemen wear!”
XVIII—THE PIRATES ASHORE
The gentleman in buff coat and breeches turned from the young woman in the doorway to the four campers, who as they glanced at their own rough outing clothes did look like a line of embarrassed schoolboys standing in front of a teacher.
“Now that you mention it, Penelope,” said Peter Cotterell, “I do note a difference between the garments of these lads and this gentleman and those we are accustomed to seeing worn by our neighbors. I understand, however, that they come from a distance, and one would hardly expect costumes to be the same in all the colonies. It occurs to me that possibly my new guests might like to make fresh toilets in one of the rooms abovestairs. I have a large wardrobe, gentlemen, and it is yours to choose from.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Tom. “I wonder if you have anything big enough to fit my friend David Norton?”
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” said Tuckerman. “I’m sure I could pick out something much better looking than these togs.”
The young woman stepped into the room. Her blue eyes were very merry as she looked at the awkward row. “I think an apricot coat would suit this one,” she said, nodding at Ben. “Something in puce this one,” she indicated Tom. “Lavender for him,” she waved at Tuckerman. “And for the fourth—let me see—” She squinted her eyes and tilted her head on one side.
“A beautiful green,” Ben suggested. “The color of seaweed in water.”
Miss Boothby laughed, and David flushed a magnificent scarlet.
“He certainly oughtn’t to wear a red coat,” said Peter Cotterell. “He’d be too much all of one color.”