The Motor Maids at Sunrise Camp Part 4

"I thought all ladies wore polonaises," insisted Mr. Campbell. "It certainly was the fashion in my youth, at any rate."

"Fashions change with the times and manners, my boy," said Miss Campbell. "But do give us the rules for the men of this household before you forget it."

"'SUB-RULES FOR MEN MEMBERS.

"'Men are required to look after the wants of the ladies and see that they obey their set of rules to the letter.'"

"And is that all?" demanded the women members with a great show of indignation. "Why, we have no rights at all and they have everything!"

"No indeed, children," answered Mr. Campbell. "When a man is required to look after the wants of five ladies, he at once gives up all rights of his own and becomes a slave. There is no need of making any more rules for the men, but there is one more rule for general obedience.

"'All questions and disputes arising shall be settled by Helen Eustace Campbell, Captain of Sunrise Camp.'"

"Three cheers for Captain Campbell," cried Percy.

Miss Campbell rose and lifted her little crinkled hand for silence.

"I accept the responsibility of Sunrise Camp," she said, "under the conditions I am about to state: that I am not asked to go canoeing in one of those tippy little boats without seats; that I am not persuaded against my better judgment to climb to the top of a mountain, for I simply won't, I tell you beforehand; and that nothing shall interfere with my afternoon nap."

"I am sure that these mild requests will be agreeable to all concerned,"

said Mr. Campbell. "Will the company state objections, if any?"

There was a dead silence.

"Captain Campbell, consider yourself installed as absolute ruler in this camp."

"Papa, why be so businesslike?" asked Billie.

"Because there must always be a certain amount of system in a camp or it won't run. I've lived in camp so much more than in houses that I know, and since I can't be with you until later, I think it wise to get things started in this way before I go----"

"The car is ready, sir," said the village chauffeur at the door.

The Motor Maids had begun to learn by this time that it was invariably Mr. Campbell's way to leave his guests in a cheerful frame of mind, and they all knew perfectly well that "Rules for Sunrise Camp" had been prepared chiefly for Billie's sake, that she would be still laughing when her father kissed her good-by and still smiling when he turned to wave his hat for the last time. She had been very homesick for him lately during his absences from West Haven, perhaps because she had been run down in health and tired out. And to-day, in spite of all the laughing and joking, her eyes filled with tears as she watched the car creep down the mountain road to the valley.

For a little while the camp seemed lonely and remote.

"The truth is," thought Mary, wandering down the path to look at the view, "Mr. Campbell is so splendid that when he goes away he always leaves a big empty s.p.a.ce that doesn't seem to fill up. And Billie is just like him. n.o.body ever could fill the emptiness she would leave."

As if drawn by these loyal and devoted thoughts, Billie had followed Mary, and the two girls stood with clasped hands watching the distant motor, now a black speck in the valley.

"Dearest, dearest Papa," exclaimed Billie under her breath, as the tears welled into her eyes and slipped down her cheeks.

Mary pressed close to her side with silent sympathy.

Presently Billie wiped her eyes and began to smile.

"Don't tell on me, Mary dear. I'm just like a foolish little girl. But I do love Papa so, and sometimes I can't bear to have him leave me. Then I wish I had been born his twin brother and we never could be separated."

Mary was about to dispute this argument on the grounds that marriage would have separated them, when they noticed coming up the steep road a small bony horse drawing a little cart. A girl was walking at one side, holding the reins. She wore a broad-brimmed jimmy hat and an old gingham dress faded to a soft mellowed pink. The two girls watched her with admiration as she swung along the road, swaying slightly at the waist like one who had adopted the easiest way of walking up hill. They were so intent upon her that they hardly noticed the blackberries and vegetables in the back of the cart.

Presently the girl paused and turned her beautiful dark blue eyes on them without any embarra.s.sment.

"Want to buy any vegetables?" she asked.

"Perhaps they will up at the camp," said Billie. "Ask Mrs. Lupo."

The mountain girl looked at her strangely and shook her head.

"Do you know Mrs. Lupo?" asked Billie.

"Yes, but I will not ask her."

"Very well, I'll buy something myself. What have you got?"

"Blackberries, onions and beets."

Billie bought a pail of berries.

"You had better come up to the camp and let me empty them," she said.

"Keep the pail," answered the mountain girl, and swung on up the road, flicking the little old horse with a long switch.

Billie and Mary followed with the berries, which they presently left in the kitchen where Mrs. Lupo was working.

"I bought these from a mountain girl, Mrs. Lupo," said Billie.

The woman went on working without looking up. Billie repeated what she had said. There was still no answer, and the girls went out of the kitchen somewhat disconcerted.

"She's a queer, shy creature," said Billie, and thought no more about it.

CHAPTER IV.

TABLE TOP.

Miss Campbell was quite willing to trust her brood with Ben Austen.

"He was always reliable," she remarked. "When he was a baby, his mother could depend on him not to cry at the wrong time, although, of course, he was only human."

On the whole, she was relieved that her cousin had asked Ben to make them a visit. Mr. Lupo was all very well and had guided their walking parties up the trails, or, seated beside Billie in the "Comet," had pointed out good roads for motoring; but Miss Campbell did not consider him as entirely to be trusted, because, as you probably recall, she never liked mixed bloods nor mixed colors, either.

Some days after their arrival, when they had quite recovered from that unconquerable disposition to sleep, which always attacks lowlanders visiting the mountains, Billie proposed that they take a walking trip across a tableland which separated their mountain from the one behind, and finally scale the peak beyond, where the view, it was said, was magnificent.

"Let's go to-day while the spirit moves us and it's so delightfully cool," she suggested at breakfast.