A Colony of Girls Part 2

"Well, Eleanor, what started you so early?" asked Jean, as she b.u.t.tered her roll.

"Early? You girls don't know what early means. Why it is after nine and I had my breakfast a good hour ago."

"Horror!" shuddered Nathalie. "The very thought is pain."

"They are spoiled," spoke Helen, "and even I am getting into bad habits. I simply gave up struggling, and set the breakfast hour a half hour later, with the desperate hope that it might bring them down on time."

"Girls, you ought to be ashamed," said Eleanor, with well-feigned reproach in her tone.

"What nonsense! You would do exactly the same yourself if Mrs. Moffins were not such a disciplinarian. You can't make me think you are so superior," laughed Nathalie.

Helen rose, and, pus.h.i.+ng open the blind door, stepped out on the veranda. It was a beautiful June morning, bright and suns.h.i.+ny. The air was soft and warm, and the gentle south wind felt like a caress. The fragrance of roses and honeysuckles was almost intoxicating. Every now and then the delicious stillness was broken by the soft plaintive song of a bird. The old manor looked more beautiful than ever to Helen, who loved every nook and cranny of it. She stood for a moment, shading her eyes with her hand from the sun.

"What a pretty day," she murmured to herself. "Oh, I wish----" but then a voice called her, and she went back into the house.

"Helen," said Jean, coming out from the dining room, "ask Auntie if we can go in bathing. It is so warm, and we are wild to go in."

"Very well," nodded Helen, as she went upstairs.

Mrs. Dennis was in her chair by the window, with her breakfast tray on a small table at her side.

"Good-morning, darling," she said cheerily. "Where did these delicious strawberries come from?" glancing at the pretty cut-gla.s.s dish which was filled with them.

"They are the first out of the garden, Auntie, and I was determined that no one should have them but your own dear self."

"Thank you, my dear, it was just like you to think of Auntie first. I shall indeed enjoy them."

"Do please; and oh, Auntie! the girls want to go bathing to-day. Are you willing they should?"

"I am afraid the water will be cold."

"Well, we have had a good deal of warm weather, and I think it can't be very frigid. I suppose we might as well say 'yes,' Auntie?"

"Of course," replied Aunt Helen laughingly. "Past experience has taught us that when Jean and Nathalie have set their hearts on a thing, we might as well surrender at once. You won't go in, dear?"

"No, indeed," and Helen s.h.i.+vered at the idea. "I must go and tell the girls, for they will want to know."

When the roomy buckboard came to the door, Nathalie jumped into the front seat and gathered up the reins.

"Hurry and get in, girls," she called. "The horses are very fresh this morning," and in a moment more they were bowling down the avenue.

"Stop at the inn, Nat," said Jean, "and we will get the letters, and ask Mollie to go down to the beach with us."

As they pulled up before the inn, Mollie Andrews came running out on to the porch, with a package of letters in her hand.

"Don't get out, Jean; I have your mail. Have you got room enough for me?"

"Certainly. Jump right in," cried Nathalie. "The tide is just right now, so we must hurry. Oh! isn't this jolly? I love the delicious sense of excitement one always feels at the first swim of the season.

Say, Moll, will you go in?"

"I don't know. Yes, I think I will."

It was quite a pretty scene, this bright June morning, down on the little stretch of sands which Hetherford dignified by the name of "The Beach."

Little children were digging in the sand and filling their pails, and some of the small boys were running up and down, now in the water, and now out. The girls were in a group in front of the bathing houses, all chattering at once, and discussing the momentous question as to whether to make the plunge or not.

In a brief time Jean and Nathalie were swimming far out, and Mollie came creeping timidly to the water's edge.

"Oh! how I dread it," she laughed.

"Nonsense, Moll; go ahead. It will do you good."

Mollie walked off, and Helen and Eleanor, who had found a sheltered nook, watched the bathers for a while in silence. By and by Helen's gaze strayed from the bathers to the stretch of blue water beyond, and a slightly troubled look crept into her eyes. A sudden, deep sigh recalled Eleanor's thoughts to her companion.

"Why, Helen, what world of melancholy does that sigh proclaim?"

"Oh, I don't know," evasively. "I am low-spirited this morning, somehow or other."

"Can't you tell me the reason, dear?"

Helen did not answer, and for a moment Eleanor watched her closely.

Something in the delicate face and in the eyes, in which, of late, a shadow always lurked, touched her.

"I would love your confidence, Helen," she said at last; "but unless you can give it to me freely, I would not wish to ask it of you."

Helen stirred uneasily.

"Ah, well, for a moment I thought to speak to you of something troublesome, but be glad, dear, that I have changed my mind. I am going to speak of something pleasant instead. Do you remember my friend Miss Stuart? She has visited me several times, but always in the winter."

"Oh, yes! I remember Jean's writing me about her."

Helen turned a questioning glance on Eleanor, but the girl's expression was perfectly non-committal.

"Yes? Well, she is coming here to visit me later. The time is not set as yet, but I hope it will be early next month."

"Indeed. How nice. But, Helen, I thought she was very gay and devoted to society. What will she do in this colony of girls, with scarcely a man to say a pretty thing to her?"

"I don't know," replied Helen, a shade of annoyance crossing her face.

"I think, perhaps, the girls may be mistaken about her. I feel quite sure she will be happy here."

Just then Nan Birdsall came rus.h.i.+ng down over the sands, warm but radiant.

"Going in, Nan?" called Eleanor in greeting.

"No, indeed," breathlessly. "I hate the water more than a cat does,"

and Nan dropped down on the sand at Eleanor's side, and, taking off her hat, fanned her flushed face.

"Where is Em this morning?" queried Helen.