Lucile Triumphant Part 27

"I read somewhere that they took several hundred acres from the park to enlarge the gardens," Phil volunteered. "Is that so, Dad?"

"Yes; three hundred, I think it was," his father answered. "And now here we are, before the famous Hyde Park itself!"

As they entered the park through a most imposing gateway the girls uttered a little cry of admiration.

"The lawns are like velvet!" cried Lucile. "And those exquisite flowering shrubs! What do you call them, Mother?"

"I think they are hawthorne bushes," Mrs. Payton answered, absently.

"And the flowers! Did you ever see such gorgeous tints?" said Jessie.

"And the splendid old trees! Why, they look as if they might be a million years old!"

"I bet some of them could tell many a tale of duels fought beneath their shade in the time when such things were the fashion," remarked Phil, and Evelyn turned to him with shining eyes.

"You mean real duels, where they both fight till one of them gets killed?

Oh!"

"It's plain to see you were born a century too late, Evelyn," Jessie remarked, mournfully.

"I don't care; it must have been fun," she maintained.

"Lots," Lucile agreed, gravely. "I can't imagine anything funnier than having a couple of silked and satined gentlemen sticking spears into each other for my sweet sake."

The description did not coincide in the least with that of authors and historians who love to dwell on those chivalrous days, but it accomplished its purpose, nevertheless; it sent our girls into gales of laughter.

"You're jealous, that's all," Evelyn remarked, when she could make herself heard.

The beauty and grandeur of the great Marble Arch sobered them a trifle and they were enthusiastic in their admiration. Then, when they could look no longer, they continued toward their rendezvous, leaving the beautiful, historic park behind and speeding along the Thames embankment toward Henley.

As they advanced further out of the city and deeper into the country, they were dazzled by the beauty of the scenery. The sun struck hot and bright upon the road, while the shrubs and foliage on the outskirts of the woodland seemed outlined in molten gold against the softer background of shadowy green. The river shone and sparkled in the brilliant sun like some great, glistening jewel turned to liquid sunshine. The world was bathed in gold.

"If our guardian were only here!" Lucile murmured. "And little Margaret!"

Jessie turned to her, surprised. "How did you know what I was thinking about?" she demanded.

"I didn't," said Lucile; "only, when I see the woods and the water, it makes me think of the camp-fire and our guardian and little Margaret----"

"Isn't this where we stop, Dad?" Phil interrupted; and they had no time for further conversation.

As they alighted, a man came up to them and, touching his hat, said that he was from the "Vigil" and was looking for a party bound there.

Upon Mr. Payton's a.s.suring the man that his was the party in question, they stepped into the trim little launch that was to bear them to their destination.

"Say, wouldn't it be great to have a little motor boat like this down at the river?" said Lucile, trailing her hand in the warm water. "Just think of the races we could have with it--although nothing could be much more exciting than the one we had," she added, loyally.

"Of course it couldn't," Jessie agreed. "I'd rather paddle any time."

"You must admit you can't go quite as fast," teased Phil. "Almost, of course, but not quite."

"We never admit anything," Lucile retorted. "Besides, I dare say we could go a good deal faster than some motor boats."

"Sure," said Phil, encouragingly. "I've seen lots of old tubs, minus the motor, that I'm sure you could run rings around."

"Phil, if you don't stop talking about things you don't understand,"

began Jessie.

"Is there anything?" asked Phil, with interest.

"We'll dump you out and make you walk ash.o.r.e," she added, treating his remark with the haughty disdain it deserved.

"It's a long way to sh.o.r.e," said Phil, with a rueful glance over his shoulder. "Give me one more chance, fair damsel, and I will promise never to offend again."

"Oh, if I could only believe him!" said Jessie, prayerfully.

Lucile laughed and flipped a salt drop toward the offending Phil. "You mustn't be too hard on him, Jessie," she remonstrated. "You know, he really might be worse."

"Thanks, sweet sister," said Phil, gratefully.

By this time the little launch had noisily chug-chugged its way among the various craft, small and large, and had finally come to a standstill beside a beautiful boat, upon whose bow and stern was engraved the name "Vigil."

The Applegates, proud owners of the "Vigil," crowded eagerly to the rail to welcome their guests.

"Oh, I'm so glad you could come," cried Mrs. Applegate, as Phil and Mr.

Payton climbed the short ladder preparatory to helping the women folk on board. "The d.i.c.kensons and Archie Blackstone--we came over with them, you know--are on board."

There was an enthusiastic meeting between the fellow-voyagers, for they had formed a sort of mutual-admiration society while on board the "Mauretania" and were only too glad to come together again.

While their fathers and mothers were talking, the young folks had seized upon the opportunity to look about them. They were just at the height of this delightful process when Mrs. Applegate hailed them.

"Don't you girls want to come down in the cabin and take your wraps off?"

she called.

"Surely; we're coming right away," Lucile answered for them.

"Why do you have to fix up any?" protested Archie. "You look just fine just as you are. What's the use of wasting an hour?"

"We're not going to fix up," denied Lucile; then added, "It won't take us an hour, anyway. We'll be back in five minutes."

"Oh, how I'd like to believe you!" said Archie, as they disappeared down the companionway.

"Get out your watch," challenged Lucile. "I'll wager a pound of my home-made fudge against a pound of Huyler's that we'll be back before the five minutes are up."

"If I were you, Arch," said Phil, loudly, for the benefit of his sister, "I'd rather lose than win," which was treated with a laugh of merry derision.

CHAPTER XIX