Betty Leicester: A Story For Girls

by Harriet Pyne Grove

  XVI.

  DOWN THE RIVER.

  THERE was a great stirring about and opening and shutting of kitchendoors early the next morning but one. Betty had been anxious the daybefore to set forth on what she was pleased to call a long cruise in theStarlight, but Mr. Leicester said that he must give up the morning tohis letters, and after that came a long business talk with Aunt Barbarain the library, where she sat before her capacious secretary andproduced some neat packages of papers from a little red morocco trunkwhich Betty had never seen before. To say truth, Aunt Barbara was afamous business woman and quite the superior of her nephew in financialmatters, but she deferred to him meekly, and in fact gained somelong-desired information about a northwestern city in which Mr.Leicester had lately been obliged to linger for two or three days.

  It was a day of clear hot sunshine and light breeze, not in the least agood day for sailing; but Betty was just as much disappointed to be keptat home as if it had been, and after breakfast she loitered about inidleness, with a look of dark disapproval, until papa suddenly facedabout and held her before him by her two shoulders, looking gravely intoher eyes, which fell at once.

  "Don't be cross, Betty," he said quietly; "we shall play all the betterif we don't forget our work. What is there to do first? Where's 'Thingsto be Done'?"

  Betty dipped into her pocket and pulled out a bit of paper with theabove heading, and held it up to him. Papa's eyes began to twinkle andshe felt her cheeks grow red, but good humor was restored. "1. Ask Sethto sharpen my knife. 2. Find Aunt Mary's old 'Evenings at Home' and readher the Transmigrations of Indur. 3. Find out what 'hedonism' means inthe dictionary. 4. Sew on papa's buttons."

  "Those were all the things I could think of last night," explained Bettyapologetically. "I was so sleepy."

  "It strikes me that the most important duty happened to be set downlast," said Mr. Leicester, beginning to laugh. "If you will look afterthe buttons, I will tell you the meaning of 'hedonism' and sharpen thejack-knife, and I am not sure that I won't read the Transmigrations toAunt Mary beside, for the sake of old times. I know where those littleold brown books are, too, unless they have been moved from their oldplaces. I am willing to make a good offer, for I have hardly a button tomy back, you know. And this evening we will have a row, if not a sail.The sky looks as if the wind were rising, and you can ask Mary Beck togo with us to-morrow down the river, if you like. I am going to seeyoung Foster the first time I go down the street. Now good-by untildinner-time, dear child."

  "Good-by, dear papa!" and Betty ran up-stairs two steps at a time. Shehad already looked to see if there were plenty of ink in his ink-bottle,and some water in a tiny vase on his writing-table for the quill pens.It was almost the only thing she had done that morning, but it was oneof her special cares when they were together. She gathered an armful ofhis clothes, and finding that Aunt Mary was in a hospitable frame wentinto her room for advice and society, and sat busily sewing by thefavorite cool western window nearly all the morning.

  In the evening, when the tide was high, Betty and Mr. Leicester went outfor a little row by themselves, floating under some overhangingoak-boughs and talking about things that had happened when they wereapart.

  Now we come back to where we began this chapter,--the early morning ofthe next day, and Serena's and Letty's bustling in the pantry to have abasket of luncheon ready, so that the boating party need not lose thetide; the boating party itself at breakfast in the dining-room; MaryBeck in a transport of delight sitting by her window at the other sideof the street, all ready to rush out the minute she saw Betty appear. Asfor Harry Foster and Seth, they had already gone down to the shore.

  On the wide sofa in the hall was a funny old-fashioned leather satchelwith a strong strap-handle. It seemed full to overflowing, and beside itlay a warm shawl neatly folded, and, not to make too long a story, AuntBarbara's third-best bonnet was close at hand, and these were herprovisions for spending the day on the river. Mr. Leicester had insistedthat she should go with them, and that if she found it tiresome therewas nothing to prevent her coming back by train from Riverport in theafternoon. Aunt Barbara felt as if she were being a little adventurous,and packed her small portmanteau with a secret foreboding that she mightbe kept out over night; still she had always been very fond of boating,and had seen almost none of it for many years, in fact since Betty'sfather had been at home sometimes, in his college vacations. There was afine breeze blowing already in the elms and making the tall hollyhocksbow in the garden, and when they reached the wharf and put down thecreaking wicker basket on the very edge the tide was still high, andHarry Foster had already hoisted the Starlight's sail with one carefulreef in it, and was waiting to row them out two at a time in thetag-boat. Nelly Foster could not go, as she and her mother were verybusy that day, but Harry's face looked brighter than Betty had ever seenit, and she was sure that papa must have been very good, and, to use afavorite phrase of his, opened a new gate for him. Mary Beck wasstrangely full of fears, considering that she was the granddaughter of abrave old sailor; but after she was out of the unsteady smaller boat,and had been decoyed by Betty to the bows of the Starlight, and shownhow to stow herself away so that she hindered neither jib nor boom, shebegan to enjoy herself highly. Aunt Barbara sat under her every-dayparasol, looking quite elegant and unseaworthy, but very happy. HarryFoster was steering just beside her, and Mr. Leicester, with Seth'sassistance, was shaking out the reef; for the wind was quieter just now,and they wished to get farther down river as soon as possible, sincehere, where the banks were often high and wooded and the stream narrow,it was gusty and uncertain sailing for so large a boat. They slippeddown fast with the wind and tide, and passed the packet, which hadstarted out ahead of them. She carried an unusual number of passengers,and was loaded deep with early potatoes. The girls waved theirhandkerchiefs and the men on board the packet gave a cheer, while Mr.Leicester saluted with the Starlight's flag, and it was altogether aceremonious occasion. Seth said that he "guessed folks would think oldTideshead was waking up." Of all the pleasure-boat's company Seth wasperhaps the best satisfied. He had been in a state of torture lest hemight not be asked to make one of the crew, and it being divulged thatalthough of up-country origin he had once gone to the Georges Banksfishing with a seafaring uncle, Mr. Leicester considerately asked forhis services. Seth had put on the great rubber-boots and a heavy redwoolen shirt that he wore on shipboard in March weather. He was alreadyobliged to fan himself incessantly with his straw hat, as they wererunning before the wind, and presently, after much suffering, made anexcuse to go into the little cabin, whence he reappeared, much abashed,in his stocking feet and a faded calico shirt, which had been luckilyput on under the red one. Aunt Barbara held her parasol so that itcovered her face for a few minutes, and there was a considerate silence,until Seth mentioned that he "had thought he knew before what it was tobe het up, but you never knew what kind of weather 't was to be on thewater."

  At the next bend of the river the wind made them much cooler, while theboat sailed even better than before. There had been plenty of rain, sothat the shore was as green as in June and the old farm-houses lookedvery pleasant. Betty had not been so far down as this since the day shecame to Tideshead, and was looking eagerly for certain places that sheremembered. Aunt Barbara and papa were talking about John Paul Jones andhis famous river crew, some of whom Aunt Barbara had known in their oldage, while she was a girl. Harry Foster was listening with greatinterest. Betty and even Becky felt proud of Harry as he steered,looking along the river with quick, sure eyes. They did not feel sofamiliar with him as usual; somehow, he looked a good deal older sincethe trouble about his father, and there was a new manliness and dignityabout him, as if he knew that his mother and Nelly had no one buthimself to depend upon. It was plain to see that his early burden ofshame and sorrow had developed a strong character in the lad. There wasnone of the listlessness and awkward incapacity and self-admiration thatmade some of the other Tideshead boys so unattractive, but Harry Fosterhad a
simple way of speaking and of doing whatever had to be done.

  There was a group of wooden pails on the boat, and a queer apparatus fordredging which Mr. Leicester had made the afternoon before with Seth'sand Jonathan's help. They had implored a flat-iron from Serena for oneof the weights, and she had also contributed a tin pail, which wascuriously weighted also with small pieces of iron, so that it would sinkin a particular way. It was believed that a certain uncommon littlecreature would be found in the flats farther down the river, and Mr.Leicester told the ship's company certain interesting facts about itslife and behavior which made everybody eager to join the search. "I havebeen meaning to hunt for it for years," he said. "Professor Agassiz toldme about it when I was in college; but then he always roused one'senthusiasm as no one else could, and made whatever he was interested inseem the one thing in the world that was of very first importance."Betty's heart glowed as she listened; she thought the same thing ofpapa. "He was such an inspirer of others to do good work," said Mr.Leicester, still thinking lovingly of his great teacher.

  Sometimes the river was narrow and deep and the Starlight's course laynear the shore, so that the children came running down to the water'sedge to see the pretty boat go by, and envy Betty and Mary Beck in theshadow of her great white sail. Some of them shouted Hollo! and the twogirls answered again and again, until the little voices sounded smalland piping and were lost in the distance. Halfway to Riverport, wherethe houses were a good way from any village, it seemed as if these oldhomes had remained the same for many years; none of them hadbay-windows, and the paint was worn away by wind and weather. It waslike stepping back twenty or thirty years in the rural history. AuntBarbara said that everything looked almost exactly the same along onereach of the river as it did when she could first remember it. Theshores were green with pines and ferns and gray with ledges. It was saltwater here, so that they could smell the seaweed and the woods, andcould hear the song-sparrows and the children's voices as they passedthe lonely farm-houses standing high and fog-free above the water. Fromone of these they heard the sound of women's voices singing.

  "They're havin' a meetin' in there, I expect," explained Seth. "Yes, Ihear 'Liza Loomis's voice too. You know, Miss Leicester, she used tolive up to Tideshead and sing in the Methodist choir. She's got a lovelyvoice to sing. She's married down this way. They like to git together inthese scattered places, but 't is more customary up where I come from tohave them neighborhood meetin's of an afternoon." Betty watched thesmall gray house with deep interest, and thought she should like to goin. There were little children playing about the door, as if they hadbeen brought and left outside to amuse themselves. It was very touchingto hear the old hymn as they sailed by, and Aunt Barbara and Betty'sfather looked at each other significantly as they listened. "Becky, youought to be there to help sing," Betty whispered, as they sat side byside, but Becky thought it was very stupid to be having a prayer-meetingthat lovely morning.

  Seth Pond had celebrated the Fourth of July by going down to Riverporton the packet, and he had gathered much information about the riverwhich he was glad to give now for everybody's pleasure andenlightenment.

  "There's a bo't layin' up in that cove that's drowned two men," he saidsolemnly. "There was a lady with 'em, but she was saved. I understandthey'd been drinking heavy."

  Betty looked at the boat with awe where it lay with the stern underwater and the bows ashore and all warped apart. "Isn't she good foranything?" she asked.

  "Nobody'll ever touch _her_," said Seth contemptuously,--"she's drownedtwo men."

  But Miss Leicester smiled, and said that it appeared to have been theirown fault.

  They could see into the low ruined cabin from the deck of the Starlight,and, after they passed, the cabin port-hole seemed to watch them like aneye until it was far astern.

  "I suppose she will lie there until she breaks up in a high tide, andthen the women will gather her wreck wood to burn," said Mr. Leicester,watching the warped mast, and Harry Foster said that no fishermen onthe river would ever touch a boat that they believed to be unlucky.Just then they came round a point and passed a little house close by thewater, where there were flakes for drying fish and a collection oflittle weather-beaten boxes shaped like roofs which were used to coverthe fish in wet weather. Betty thought they looked like a village ofbaby-houses. At this moment a woman darted out of the house door,screaming to some one inside, "I've lost Georgie and Idy both!" and offthe anxious mother hurried along the steep path to the fish flakes, asif that were where she usually found the runaways. Presently they hearda child's shrill voice, and a pink pinafore emerged from among thelittle roofs. Ida was deposited angrily in the lane, while the motherwent back to hunt for the other one. It was very droll to see and hearit all from the river, but it was some minutes before loud shrieksannounced the adventurous Georgie's capture.

  "Georgie must ha' been hull down on the horizon," remarked Seth blandly,trying to be very nautical, and everybody laughed; but Betty and Marythought the woman very cross, when it was such a pretty place to playout there among the bayberry, and perhaps there were ripe blackberries.Harry Foster said that children did mischief in pulling off bits of thedry fish and spoiling them for market; but there was no end of fish, andeverybody felt a sympathy for "Idy and Georgie both" in their sadcaptivity.

  Before long the houses were nearer together, and even clustered inlittle groups close by the river, and sometimes the Starlight passedsome schooners going up or down, or being laden with bricks or hay orfirewood at small wharves. Then they came in sight of the Riverportsteeples, only a few miles below. The wind was not so gusty now and blewsteadily, but it was very light, and the Starlight moved slowly. Harryand Seth had already hoisted a topsail, and while Mr. Leicester steeredHarry came and stood by the masts, looking out ahead and talking withthe two girls. But Harry felt responsible for the boat, and could notgive himself up to pleasuring until, as he said, he understood thetricks and manners of the Starlight a little better. It was toward noon,now, for they had come slowly the last third of the way; and Mr.Leicester, after a word with Aunt Barbara, proposed that they should goashore for a while, for there was a beautiful piece of pine woods closeat hand, and the flats which he was going to investigate were alsowithin rowing distance. So down came the sails and alongside came thetag-boat; and Aunt Barbara was landed first, parasol and all, and theothers followed her. The tide was running out fast, and it was not easyto find a landing-place along the muddy shores. Betty thought theStarlight looked much smaller from the shore than she seemed when theywere on board. Harry and Seth made everything trig and came in last,leaving the cat-boat at anchor far out.

  Even after the joy of sailing it was very pleasant ashore under theshady pines, and Mr. Leicester found a delightfully comfortable placefor Aunt Barbara to sit in, while the girls were near by. "What aninteresting morning we have had!" Betty heard Aunt Barbara say. "Sailingdown the river brings to mind so many things in the past. The beginningsof history in this part of the country always have to do with the river.I wish that I could remember all the stories of the early settlementsthat I used to hear old people tell in my childhood."

  "See that little green farm in the middle of the sunburnt pasturesacross the river," said Mr. Leicester, who had been looking that wayintently. "Look, Betty! what a small green spot it makes with itsorchard and fields among the woods and brown pastures, and yet what toilhas been spent there year after year!"

  Betty looked with great interest. She had seen the green farm, but shehad not thought about it, and neither had Mary Beck, who could not tellwhy she kept looking that way again and again, and somehow could nothelp thinking how good it would be to make a green place like that byone's own life among dull and difficult surroundings. Betty was hergreen place; by and by she could do the same thing for somebody else,perhaps.

  "What a lovely place this is!" said Aunt Barbara, still enthusiastic."There is such sweet air here among the pines, and I delight in the wideoutlook over the river. I begin to fee
l as young as ever. I thought thatI was almost too old to enjoy myself any more, last winter. It is sucha mistake to let one's self make great things out of little ones, as Idid, and carry life too heavily," she added.

  "You must feel ever so much older inside than you look outside," saidBetty, who was in famous spirits.

  Mr. Leicester laughed with the rest, and then looked over his shoulderwith a droll expression, as if something was causing him greatapprehension. "Aunt Barbara!" he began, and then hid his face with hisarm, as if he were about to be well whipped.

  "What mischief now?" said she.

  "I have played you a trick: you are not leaving your home and friendsfor one day, but for two."

  Miss Leicester looked puzzled.

  "You were very good not to say that I was foolish to carry two extrasails."

  "I did think it was nonsense, Tom," he was promptly assured, "but then Iremembered that you had only hired the boat, and thought perhaps thesails went with it. Of course they take up too much room in the cabin.You can't mean that you are going on a longer voyage?"

  "_Tents!_" shouted Betty, jumping up and dancing about in greatexcitement. "_Tents!_ don't you see, Aunt Barbara? and we're going tocamp out." It was a very anxious moment, for if Aunt Barbara said, "Wemust go home to-night," there would be nothing to do but obey.

  "But your Aunt Mary will be worried, won't she?" asked Miss Leicester,whose quick wit suspected a deep-laid plot. She was already filled witha spirit of adventure; she really looked pleased, but was not without asense of responsibility.

  "I thought you would like it," explained Mr. Leicester, in amatter-of-fact way; "and there was no need of telling you beforehand, sothat you would make your will and pay your taxes and get in all thewinter supplies and have the minister to tea before you started. AuntMary knows, and so does Serena; you will see that Serena contemplatedthe situation by the way she filled these big baskets."

  "I saw that they were amused with something that I didn't quiteunderstand. And Mary Beck's mother will not feel anxious?" she asked,for a final assurance. "I never expected to turn myself into a wildIndian at my age, even to please foolish children like you and Betty,but I have always wished that I could sleep one night under the pinewoods."

  "You said so when we were reading Mr. Stevenson's 'Travels with aDonkey' aloud to Aunt Mary," Betty stated eagerly, as if the otherswould find it hard to believe her grandaunt. Somehow, a stranger wouldhave found it difficult to believe that Miss Leicester had unsatisfieddesires about gypsying.

  Mary Beck was deeply astonished; she had a huge admiration for herdignified neighbor across the way, and yet it was always a littleperilous to her ease of mind and self-possession to find herself in MissLeicester's company. Many a time, in the days before Betty came toTideshead, she had walked to and fro before the old house hoping to bespoken to or called in for a visit, and yet was too shy to properlyanswer a kind good-morning when they met. Aunt Barbara used to thinkthat Becky was a dull girl, but they were already better friends. Ittook a long time to rouse Becky's enthusiasm, but when roused it burnedwith steady flame. To think that she should be camping out with MissLeicester!

  But Mr. Leicester and Betty and Becky were soon at work making theircamp, and the novices took their first lesson in woodcraft. The youngmen, Harry Foster and Seth, came ashore bringing the tender loaded deepwith tents and blankets, some of them from Jonathan's carefully keptchests in the carriage-house, and Miss Leicester wondered again howanybody had contrived to get so many things from the house to the boatwithout her knowledge. There were two sharp hatchets, and presently Sethand Harry were dispatched to gather some dry wood for the fire, thoughuntil near evening the tents need not be put up nor the lastarrangements made for sleeping. By and by everybody could help either tocut or carry hemlock and spruce boughs for the beds.

  Betty helped her father to roll some stones together for a fireplacejust at the edge of the river beach, and pleased him very much byrolling a heavy one up to the top of the heap on a piece of board whichhad washed ashore, just as she had seen farmers do in building a stonewall. Mary Beck, in a trepidation of delight, was helping Miss BarbaraLeicester unpack the baskets, to see what should be eaten for dinnerand what should be kept for future meals, when Mr. Leicester calledthem.

  "Aunt Barbara," he proclaimed, "I am not going to let you keep tent; youonly know how to keep house; and beside, you mustn't do what you alwaysdo at home. Let the girls manage dinner and you come with me, now thatthe fire is started. I have thought of an errand."

  Miss Leicester meekly obeyed; she was ready for anything, having oncecast off, as she said, all obligation to society, and with a few partingcharges to Betty about the provisions she disappeared among the pineswith her nephew.

  "Isn't it fun?" said Mary Beck, and she put on such a comical face whenBetty sedately quoted,

  "What is that, mother? A lark, my child,"

  that Betty fell into a fit of laughter, and Becky caught it, and theywere gasping for breath before they could stop. "Oh, think of AuntBarbara camping out and setting herself up for a gypsy!" said Betty."This is just the way papa does now and then. I always told you so,didn't I?--only you never know when to watch for his tricks. He doesn'talways catch me like this, I can tell you. Think of Aunt Barbara! I hopethe dear thing will pass a good night; she isn't a bit older than we arein her dear heart. How will she ever have the face to walk into churchso grandly Sunday morning!" and so the merry girls chattered on, whilethey spread the cloth and Betty put a decoration of leaves round theedge and a handful of flowers in the middle. "You have such a way ofprettifying things," said Mary Beck; "there, the chocolate pot isbeginning to boil already."

  "We ought to have some fresh water; it is time papa came back," saidBetty anxiously; and just then appeared papa and smiling Aunt Barbara,and a small tin pail which had to be borrowed at a farm-house half amile away because it was forgotten.

  The wind blew cool across the river, and more and more boats wentgliding up and down in the channel, though the tide was very low.Everybody was hungrier than ever, because the sea wind is famous forhelping on an appetite, and the hot chocolate was none too hot afterall, though Aunt Barbara's bonnet was hanging on a branch and she didnot seem to miss the shelter of it. Becky was forced to change heropinion about cooking; she had always disliked to have anything to dowith it; it seemed to her a thing to be ignored and concealed in politesociety, and yet Betty was openly proud of having had a fewcooking-school lessons, and of knowing the right way to do things. Beckysuddenly began to parade her own knowledge, and found herself of greatuse to the party. Instead of being unwilling when her mother asked forhelp again, she meant to learn a great many more things. She wasoverjoyed when she found a tin box of coffee, and remembered that Bettyhad said it was her father's chief delight. She would make a good cupfor him in the morning. Betty was always saying how nice it was to knowhow to do things. She never expected to like to wash dinner dishes, butthe time had come, though a hot sun was somehow pleasanter than a hotstove, and it had been a gypsy dinner, with potatoes in the ashes andbuns toasted on a hot stone, and no end of good things beside.

  "We must have some oysters to roast for our supper. I know a place justbelow here where they are very salt and good," said Mr. Leicester; "andone of you young men might go fishing, and bring us in a string offlounders, or anything you can get. We have breakfast to look out for,you remember."

  "Ay, ay, sir," said Harry Foster, sailor fashion, but with uncommonheartiness. Harry had been very quiet and care-taking on the boat, andhad not said much, either, since he came ashore, but his eyes had beengrowing brighter, and as Miss Leicester looked up at him she was touchedat the change in his face. How boyish and almost gay he was again! Shecaught his eye, and gave him a kind reassuring little nod, as if nobodycould be more pleased to have him happy than herself.

  The Starlight was now aground in the bright green river grass and theflats were bare for a long distance beyond, so that t
here was no moreboating for the present. There were plenty of comfortable hollows torest in farther back on the soft carpet under the pines, and so thedining-room nearer the shore was abandoned and the provisions cached, asMr. Leicester called it, under an oak-tree. Certain things had beenforgotten, but just round the point the steeples of Riverport were infull view; and when everybody had rested enough and the tide wascreeping in, Mr. Leicester first sent Harry out in the small boat andhis long-legged fishing-boots to get two buckets of river mud, and afterhe had seated himself beside them with his magnifying-glasses and aparaphernalia of tools familiar to Betty, Harry was given orders to takeSeth Pond and the two girls and go down to Riverport shopping, as soonas the Starlight floated again.

  Harry was hovering over the scientific enterprise and looked sorry for aminute, but it seemed to the girls as if the tide had stopped rising. Atlast they got on board by going down the shore a little way to be takenoff the sooner from some rock. Aunt Barbara announced that she meant togo too; indeed, she was not tired; what had there been to tire her? Sooff they all went, and left Mr. Leicester to his investigations. It tooksome time to go to Riverport, for the wind was light and the tideagainst them. Everybody, and Betty in particular, thought it great funto make fast to the wharf and go ashore up into the town shopping. AuntBarbara gayly stepped off first, to see an old friend who lived a littleway above the business part of the town, and, asked to be called for, asthey went back, at the friend's river gate. Harry knew it?--the highhouse with the lookout on top and the gate at the garden-foot. Bettywent first to find her early friend, the woman who kept the bake-house,and was recognized at once and provided with fresh buns and crispmolasses cookies which had hardly cooled. Then Betty and Becky walkedabout the narrow streets for an hour, enjoying themselves highly andcollecting ship's stores at two or three fruit shops; also laying in agood store of chocolate, which Betty proclaimed to be very nourishing.She got two pots of her favorite orange marmalade too, in case they madetoast for supper.

  "All the old ladies are looking out of their windows, just as they werethe day I was coming to Tideshead," she said; and Becky replied thattheir faces were always at just the same pane of glass. The fences werevery high and had their tops cut in points, and over them here and theredrooped the heavy bough of a fruit-tree or a long tendril of grapevine,as if there were delightful gardens inside. The sidewalks were verynarrow underneath these fences, so that Betty often walked in the streetto be alongside her companion. There were pretty old knockers on thefront doors, and sometimes a parrot hung out under the porch, andshouted saucily at the passers-by. Riverport was a delightful old town.Betty was sure that if she did not love Tideshead best she should liketo belong in Riverport, and have a garden with a river gate, and a greatsquare house of three stories and a lookout on top.

  The stores were put on board, and Seth Pond came back from researcheswhich had been rewarded by a half-bushel basket full of clams. Then theyswung out into the stream again, and ever so many little boys with fourgrown men on the wharf gave them a cheer. It was great fun stopping forAunt Barbara, who was in the garden watching for them, and was escortedby a charming white-haired old gentleman who teased her a little uponher youthful escapade, and a younger lady who walked sedately under anantique Chinese parasol. Betty sprang ashore to greet this latterpersonage, who had lately paid a visit to Miss Barbara at Tideshead. Shewas fond of Miss Marcia Drummond.

  "It seems like old times to have you going home by boat," said MissMarcia, kissing Aunt Barbara good-by. "It is much pleasanter than a carjourney. Betty, my dear, you know that your aunt is a very rash andheedless person; I hope you will hold her in check. I have been tryingto persuade her that she will be much safer to-night in one of our oldfour-posters;" and so they said good-by merrily and were off again,while the young people in the boat looked back as long as they could seethe old garden with its hollyhocks and lilies, and the two figures ofthe courtly old gentleman and the lady with the parasol going up thebroad walk.

  "What a good thing it was in Tom Leicester to send his daughter toTideshead this summer!" said the old gentleman. "I think that Barbarais renewing her youth. Tom is a man of distinction, and yet keeps to hisqueer wild ways. You are sure that Barbara quite understands about ourwishing them to dine here? I think this camping business is positivelyfoolish conduct in a person of her age."

  But Miss Marcia Drummond looked wistfully over her shoulder at thecat-boat's lessening sail, and wished that she too were going to spend anight under the pines.

  A little way up the river they passed the packet boat, a little belatedand heavily laden, but moving steadily.

  "Look at old Step-an'-fetch-it," said Seth. "She spears all the littlewinds with that peaked sail o' hern. Ain't one on 'em can git by her."They kept company for a while, until in the broad river bay aboveRiverport bridge the Starlight skimmed far ahead, like a great whitemoth. Seth mentioned that folks would think they was settin' up a navyup to Tideshead, and just then the Starlight yawed, and the boom threwSeth off his balance and nearly overboard, as much to his own amusementas the rest of the ship's company's. Betty and Mary Beck stowedthemselves away before the mast, and wished that the sail were longer.The sun was low, and the light made the river and the green shores lookmost beautiful. Miss Leicester suggested that they should sail a littlefarther before going in, and so they went as far as the next reach, amile above the camp, on the accommodating west wind. It was a last puffbefore sundown, and by the time Harry had anchored the Starlight indeeper water than before, her sail drooped in the perfectly stillevening air.

  Once on shore everybody was busy; the spruce and hemlock boughs must bearranged carefully for the beds and the tents pitched over them beforethe August dew began to fall. Mr. Leicester was chief of this part ofcamp duty, and Miss Barbara, who seemed to enjoy herself more everymoment, was allowed by the girls to help, just that once, about gettingsupper. It was growing cool and the fire was not unwelcome, but by andby a gentle wind began to blow and kept away the midges. Betty began tothink that there would be nothing left for breakfast by the time supperwas half through, but she managed to secrete part of her cherished buns,and reflected that it would be easy to send to Riverport for furthersupplies even if breakfast were a little late. Betty felt a certain careand responsibility over the whole expedition, it was so delightful to belooking after papa again; and she was obliged to tell him that he mustnot touch the river mud any more, or he would not be fit to go throughthe streets of Riverport next day, at which Mr. Leicester, though deeplyattached to his old friends in that town, looked very distressed andunwilling.

  The darkness fell fast, and the supper dishes had to be put under somebayberry bushes until morning. The salt air was very sweet and fresh,and it was just warm enough and just cool enough, as Betty said. Thestars were bright; in fact, the last few days had been much more likeJune than August, and it was what English people call Queen's weather.Mary Beck said sagely that it must be because Miss Leicester came, andthen was quite ashamed, dear little soul, not understanding that nothingis so pleasant to an older woman as to find herself interesting andcompanionable to a girl. People do not always grow away from theiryouth; they add to it experiences and traits of different sorts; and itis easy sometimes to throw off all these, and find the boy or the girlagain, eager and fresh and ready for simple pleasures, and to make newbeginnings.

  Seth Pond had stolen out to the cat-boat on some errand of his own whichnobody questioned, and now there suddenly resounded the surprising notesof his violin. It was very pretty to hear his familiar old tunes overthe water, and everybody respected Seth's amiable desire to affordentertainment, even if he failed a little now and then in time or tone.He had mastered several old Scottish and English airs in the book Bettyhad given him, and already had become proficient in some lively jigs anddancing tunes, as we knew at the time of Betty's first party in thegarden. The clumsy fellow had a real gift for music. Some stray fairymust have passed his way and left an unexpected gift. The littleaudien
ce on the shore were ready to applaud, and two or three boats camenear, while some young people in one began to sing "Bonny Doon," softly,while Seth played, and, encouraged by the applause, went on more boldly,and took up the strain again when Seth changed suddenly to "Lochaber nomore." Miss Leicester was overjoyed when she heard such fresh youngvoices sing the plaintive old air so readily. It had always been a greatfavorite of hers, and she said so with enthusiasm. Mary Beck was sorrythat she never had learned it, but by the time the last verse came shebegan to join in as best she could.

  "I'll bring thee a heart with love running o'er, And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no more,"

  the words ended. Nobody who heard it that summer night in the starlightby the river shore would ever forget the old song.

  "You must have influenced Seth's choice of music," Betty's father saidto Aunt Barbara, who confessed that the droning of the violin over cheapmusic was more than she could bear at first, and she had been compelledto suggest something in the place of "The Sweet By-and-By" and "GoldenSlippers." Luckily, Seth seemed to abandon these without regret.

  At last the boats all disappeared into the darkness, and the little campwas made ready for night. The open air made every one sleepy but MissBarbara, who consoled herself by thinking that if she did not sleep itwould be little matter; she had been awake many a night in her life andfelt none the worse. But in fact the sound of rippling water against thebank and the sea-like sound of the pine boughs overhead sent her tosleep before she had half time to properly enjoy them. She and Bettydeclared that their thick-set evergreen boughs and warm blankets madethe best of beds. They could see the stars through the open end of thetent. One was so bright that it let fall a slender golden track of lighton the river. Mary Beck thought that she had never been so happy.Camping-out had always been such a far-off thing, and belonged to summertourists and the remote unsettled parts of country; but here she was,close to her own home, with all the delights of gypsy life suddenly madeher own. Betty and Betty's friends had such a way of enjoying every-daythings. Becky was learning to be happy in simple ways she never hadbefore. She went to sleep too, and the stars shone on, and late in thenight the waning moon came up, strange and red; then the dawn camecreeping into the morning sky, and one wild creature after another, inthe crevices of rocks or branches of trees, waked and went its wayssilently or gay with song.

  When Betty's eyes first opened she could not remember where she was, fora moment. Then she was filled with a sense of great contentment, and laystill, looking out through the open end of the tent across the widestill river down which some birds were flying seaward. It was mostbeautiful in that early morning of a new day, and from beyond the wateron the opposite shore came the far sweet sound of a woman's voicesinging as she worked, as if a long-looked-for day had come and heldgreat joy for her. She was singing just as the birds sing, and Bettytried to fancy how she looked as she went to and fro so busily in one ofthe farm-houses.

  Aunt Barbara did not wake until after Betty, which was a great joy, andthere was a peal of delighted laughter from the girls when she waked andfound their bright young eyes watching her. She complained of nothing,except a moment of fright when she saw her own bonnet at the top of alopped fir which had been stuck into the ground at the foot of the bed,to hang her raiment on. Her wrap had been put neatly round the tree'sshoulders by Betty, so that it looked like a queer sort of skeletoncreature with every sort of garment on its sharp pegs of bones. Nobodyhad taken the least bit of cold, and everybody was as cheerful aspossible, and so the day began. Seth Pond had trudged off to get somemilk at one of the farm-houses, and had lighted a fire before he wentand covered it with bits of dry turf, which served to keep it in as wellas peat. Mr. Leicester complained that he had found the tent too warm,and so had rolled himself in his blanket and spent the night in the openair. Evidently he and Harry Foster had been awake some time, and theywere having a famous talk about one of the treasured creatures in themuddy wooden pail. Harry had managed to learn a great deal by spendingan hour now and then in a famous old library in Riverport, in which MissLeicester had given him the use of her share; and Betty knew that herfather was delighted and surprised with the young man's interest in hisown favorite studies. She had felt sure all summer that papa would knowjust how to help Harry Foster on, and as she watched them she could nothelp thinking that she wished Harry were her brother. But then she wouldno longer have entire right to papa.

  "Come, Elizabeth Leicester!" said papa, in high spirits. "I never hadsuch a dilatory damsel to make my first tent breakfast!" So Bettyhastened, and poked the fire nearly to death in her desire forpromptness with the morning meal. After it was over Miss Leicester satin the shade with a book, while all the rest went fishing and took along sail seaward beside.

  That evening they went home with the tide, in great delight, every one.Aunt Barbara was unduly proud of her exploits and a sunburnt nose, andthe younger members of the party were a little subdued from their firstenthusiasm by all sorts of exciting pleasures. As for Harry Foster, thelad felt as if a door had been kindly opened in the solid wall ofhindrance which had closed about him, and as if he could look throughnow into a new life.