CHAPTER X.
THE PIC-NIC ON THE ISLAND.
The next morning, at breakfast, at Woodburn Grange, the Friends’ party was the great topic. All were unanimous in their expressions of pleasure. “The Heritages,” said Mr. Woodburn, “seemed to have thought of everything capable of making the evening pleasant. And only to think of their bringing out Sir Emanuel Clavering so!” Tom Boddily’s music, and his story of the poor musical child, were commented on with great enthusiasm.
“And, my dear Letty,” said Mr. Woodburn, “the Quakers, without singing, dancing, or playing music or games, do know how to make an amusing party.”
“Music and games!” said Letty, “why, we had both.”
“Yes, that improvised vocal concert of yours was a grand coup,” said Mr. Woodburn.
“And the noses!” said Letty. “Who could have suspected that odd Friend of being an actor!”
“And Miss Heritage,” said George, “did she take part in your singing?”
“Oh! she denied it,” said Letty. “She said she only ‘crooned to hersel’’ a little, as Burns says; but I caught some sweet tones coming out of that quarter every now and then. She has a charming voice; that I discovered; and I believe she knows more about singing than she wants to be known. I can tell you one thing—she is a very sweet poetess. I am promised a delicious little poem of hers some day, that she repeated to me. These Quaker girls, do you know, learn off lots of poetry, and the funniest of all—such poetry!—Moore’s, and Byron’s, and Burns’s—of all things. They have a poet at Birmingham; only think, at Birmingham!”
“A gunsmith, of course,” said Mr. Woodburn, satirically, “as they hate war.”