A Colony of Girls Part 7

To these two Clifford Archer's question came almost like an interruption, although no word had been spoken between them.

"No, thanks," taking from his pocket a silver case of curious design, "but, if no one objects, I will light a cigarette!"

"I can't help it," cried Nathalie, laughing until the tears were in her eyes, "did you hear the way he said that word 'cigarette,'--with such a lingering over each syllable? I am sure you are a Spaniard, Mr.

Farr, in spite of New Jersey."

"I knew it," Nan put in, "the moment you spoke."

"Ah," exclaimed Nathalie, drawing back in mock affright, "you are an exile."

"How interesting," spoke Nan. "Do tell us all about it."

"About what?" queried Farr coolly, and Nan subsided, feeling suddenly very much embarra.s.sed.

Eleanor Hill caught an expression half impatient in Farr's eyes, and turned warningly to Nathalie.

"You will be sorry."

"When I'm sober," interrupted the young girl merrily.

"What a rowdy you are, Nat; Helen is looking at you most disapprovingly."

A shrug of the shoulders was Nathalie's only answer, and starting up she crossed over, and stood before Farr, where he sat at Jean's side.

"You have been very good and patient," she a.s.sured him with a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes, "and now I am going to reward you by unpacking the luncheon hamper."

"That's a good idea," cried d.i.c.k; "I am almost starved to death."

"What delicious salad," exclaimed Churchill a few moments later, as they sat about the open hamper. "Miss Helen, you are a culinary artist."

Helen smiled her thanks.

"May I not sit by you, Eleanor," pleaded Clifford Archer, dropping down on the deck at her side. "With you near me I could never know hunger or thirst."

"Nonsense," frowning on him in seeming disapproval. "I think your appet.i.te is one which stands you in good stead."

He was a handsome youth, graceful in the extreme. It was a constant source of annoyance to Eleanor Hill that she found him so charming, for, she often a.s.sured herself, there was nothing to the boy but his good looks and perfect manners. But who will dare to say that these are nothing?

"I do hope there are plenty of sandwiches," sighed Nan, as she sat eating her fourth.

d.i.c.k tipped up the plate, depositing a dozen or more in her lap.

"That enough?" he asked innocently.

"You idiot!" cried Nan.

"Do say something new, Nan," called Mollie from the other side of the boat. "That is the third time to-day you have given d.i.c.k that appellation."

"How can I help it," groaned Nan, "when it characterizes him so perfectly?"

"You can't," said Nathalie consolingly, "and if I were you I would not attempt to."

d.i.c.k looked at both girls with withering scorn, then glanced by them as if their existence were a matter of small import.

"Helen, can I open the beer and ginger ale now?"

"If it will be any comfort to you, d.i.c.k, you have my consent."

"I think I will try another sandwich, if Miss Birdsall can spare me one."

"Then catch, Mr. Farr," and Nathalie tossed him one, with unerring aim.

"O Nathalie," protested Jean, with changing color.

"Well, I am glad to know he is not a m.u.f.f," said Nathalie, as Farr caught the sandwich. "What is the matter, Jean? I didn't know you were so easily shocked."

"Look out for the boom," called Dudley most opportunely, and the _Cyclone_ came swiftly about.

"What an unfortunate move. Now the sun is right in our eyes," and Jean looked up at Farr appealingly. "Won't you please have it removed?"

"Why, certainly. Are not your wishes my law?" and even as he spoke the sun slipped under a cloud.

"What a wonderful man," Eleanor Hill laughed softly.

The afternoon sped away all too rapidly, and the hours were as minutes to the happy young people skimming the waters of the beautiful sound.

Nature was at her very best this sunshiny summer afternoon. Light fleecy clouds scudded swiftly across the delicious blue of the vaulted sky above, and in the distance the low, far-stretching, Long Island sh.o.r.e was bathed in a soft, violet haze, broken here and there by patches of white, glistening sand.

The _Cyclone_, with every yard of canvas set, was running gayly before the breeze, which since noon had grown strong and steady. The swash of the water against the boat, the slight straining and creaking of the rigging, the sighing of the wind in the sails, were sounds sweet as music to the ear of every true lover of the sea.

And now the summer day began to wane, and in the western sky the sun was shining with a brilliant radiance.

"Ah!" sighed Jean softly, as they dropped anchor in Hetherford Harbor, "why do all pleasant things come to an end?"

"But they invariably do," and there was a touch of genuine regret in Farr's voice, which was quite sincere; for in this last pleasant hour, he had thoroughly enjoyed a delightful _tete-a-tete_ with his pretty companion, and had every reason, in spite of the merry chaffing of these gay young strangers, to vote the day a great success.

CHAPTER V.

SUNSET-HOUR ON THE CLIFFS.

The following morning the girls were collected together in the upper balcony of the manor, where the cl.u.s.tering vines afforded a welcome shelter from the sun's hot rays. A wicker table, laden down with books and work baskets, occupied a central position, and the low rockers which surrounded it were tilted swiftly back and forth as the girls worked and chatted in an easy, desultory way. On the wide old-fashioned settle in the background sat Eleanor Hill and Nan Birdsall; Eleanor lounging lazily back among the cushions, her hands resting idly in her lap, Nan all curled up in a heap, her sketchbook on her knee, her deft fingers making rapid strokes with a long, well-sharpened pencil.

"Do you know," spoke Eleanor Hill, "I fear we behaved very badly yesterday. I have had qualms of conscience ever since, and a growing conviction that we made perfect fools of ourselves in the eyes of those two strange men."

"Better that than dullards," laughed Nan lightly.