The Motor Maids by Rose, Shamrock and Thistle Part 23

There was actually a suspicion of a sob in her voice when she made this statement.

"Hang it all," exclaimed one of the shadowy company in the background, "we are a lot of brutes not to have offered to help the young lady.

Madam," he said,-was not that the way to address a strange lady?-"won't you let me go with you to find your friends?"

Nancy put her handkerchief to her mouth to conceal the smile that would curve her charming lips.

"It would be very kind of you," she replied with a gesture of helplessness that drew first one and then another of the bashful youths to the center of the room.

"It's my place to help the young lady, Bulger," said the boy who had first spoken.

"And why? You didn't offer to."

"But she is my guest. I am sure she expects me to find her friends."

"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed the other, half angrily.

Nancy again put her handkerchief to her face. It was impossible to keep from smiling.

"I'll show the young lady the way," here put in a voice much deeper than the others. "I've met Peppercorn. He belongs to Magdalen College."

"Yes!" exclaimed Nancy with some excitement.

"I'm afraid I don't know where he lodges, but we can inquire at the offices of the college."

"I suppose I could do that just as well as you, Bixby," put in the young man who was host of the party.

"Won't all of you come? I shouldn't mind," murmured Nancy.

There was a general movement at this astonishing invitation, a shuffling of feet on the floor and a simultaneous disappearance of pipes, and appearance of hats and caps.

"Won't you let me carry your parasol?" asked one who craved that honor so deeply that he forgot to stammer and blush.

"Allow me to carry your bag," another requested, as if Nancy were a queen and he her most devoted subject.

And even as a queen did she now descend the steps and pa.s.s out of the lodging house, surrounded by a n.o.ble escort of eight; nor did she heed that sorrowful token of her impatience, the uprooted bell.

As she went out, she said:

"Perhaps I had better introduce myself. I am an American girl--"

A telegraphic smile flashed from one member of the company to the other.

"And-my name is Nancy Brown."

If anything could have been more captivating than herself, it was her name, and her eight cavaliers pressed about her in order to catch a glimpse of her pretty face under the pink-lined drooping brim of her hat.

As they strolled along, the young man named "Bixby" proceeded to enumerate the names of his seven friends to Nancy, who paused at the archway to get them straight. And of all the escort, she liked the handsomest best. His name was Edward Bacon.

"Jolly afternoon for boating," remarked the handsome Edward, pointing to the pretty river below dotted with small craft. "Wouldn't it be good sport, Miss Brown, to bring Peppercorn and your friends along for a row before supper? Would they like it, do you suppose?"

"Like it? They would love it," cried Nancy. "That is what they expected to do anyway. Do hurry."

It took some time, however, to find Timothy's address and then locate his lodgings, which were indeed very much like those Nancy had mistaken for his. A neat-looking woman answered the bell this time, and curtseyed with an old-world politeness.

"Please, Miss, are you Miss Nancy Brown?" asked the woman respectfully.

"Yes."

"The lady says as how they couldn't wait for you any longer. You wuz to follow with the young man down High Street to Carfax Tower; then to Oxford Castle and His Majesty's Prison."

Nancy felt rather hurt. But of course she had no means of knowing that Billie and Edward had gone back to the hotel to find her before they had proceeded on their way to Carfax Tower and Oxford Castle. It was much too beautiful an afternoon to waste indoors, and not being especially uneasy about Nancy, remembering that she was with Feargus, they had concluded that she could not possibly miss the way, and so departed with easy consciences.

"I say, you know, that's jolly mean of them to leave you in the lurch like that, Miss Brown," exclaimed one of the cavaliers. "Oxford Tower is way over on the other side of town. We could get in a little row before they finished looking at it. What do you say?"

Nancy hesitated; drooped her lashes; looked serious a moment, and then smiled.

"I believe I'll risk it," she said. "It would be fun and I don't feel a bit like taking that long walk. I have already walked miles, I believe."

We will admit that it was naughty of Nancy to do this reckless thing,-rowing off in a college barge with eight strange young men. But she did not intend to be naughty. She only wanted to enjoy herself under the drooping pink brim of her pretty hat. And after all, it isn't every girl who has eight handsome cavaliers to row her on one of the loveliest rivers in all England. Once in the long boat with her small feet on somebody's coat to keep them dry, one young man holding the white silk parasol and another the hand bag, and all of them entertaining her at once, Nancy quite forgot that she was engaged in an unconventional adventure. It did not seem to occur to the bashful students, either, so bewildered were they by this charming young American who was modest and demure and still not shy. They had not met a girl like her before.

"Why don't you sing?" she suggested, as the boat cut through the little rippling waves with a gentle, soothing music.

"Would you care to hear us? We have a pretty good double quartette?"

"Oh, do," she ordered, settling herself down to listen to the music and watch the green sh.o.r.es glide past.

They sang "Nancy Lee" out of compliment to the guest of honor, and when they came to the chorus the vibration of their combined voices rocked the boat and the guest of honor clutched the sides and looked fearfully toward sh.o.r.e.

Gradually an uneasiness began to creep into Nancy's heart. It may have been caused by the rocking of the boat, and it may have been a very black cloud that now obscured the heavens, forming an angry background to the vivid green of the trees and shrubbery on the sh.o.r.es of the little river.

What would Miss Campbell say, and Billie, and the others, when they heard of her unladylike behavior? She was actually taking a boat ride with eight strangers! And all for what?

Because she was wearing her most becoming hat lined with pink!

There was a distant rumble of thunder. Then a sudden draught of damp air. All along the river's placid surface little boats were scurrying to sh.o.r.e like schools of frightened tadpoles.

"To the sh.o.r.e," shouted Edward Bacon. "The rain's upon us!"

A sheet of rain blew into their faces and a gust of wind, as if with malicious intent, lifted Nancy's prized hat, pins and all, straight off her head and landed it on the water, where it floated along like a big pink lily pad.

"Oh, oh!" she cried, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "My hat! My pretty pink hat!"

Then into the water jumped the gallant Edward Bacon, seized the hat before he was waist deep and composedly brought it to land.

"Oh, I know it was wrong for me to come," wept the young girl. "Oh, dear, I shouldn't have done it and now I'm being punished!"

It was a hard price, surely, to pay for this escapade: to lose her most cherished possession,-for the pink hat bore only a bedraggled and distant resemblance to its former self.