Greycliff Wings

Deepest of sapphire skies, freshest of air, most sparkling of lake waters greeted the senior collegiates, dignified by their position at the head of the school, on their first picnic of the year. By ones, twos, threes and more, they added to the company which sought seats upon the dancing Greycliff, freshly painted during the summer, the black letters of the name showing clearly against a pearl-grey side. The starry-eyed Eloise Winthrop, her dark locks done up in a new way, looked prettier than ever, as she stood up and waved wildly to Cathalina Van Buskirk and Lilian North, who were just climbing into the launch.

“This way, girls!” she called. “Here’s Betty,—and Hilary and Pauline!”

“Cathalina and Lilian are getting to look like sisters,” said Pauline.

“It is more their manner,” said Eloise, “and Lilian dresses more like Cathalina now that she lives in New York. Their features are not alike. Lilian’s look like a cameo. How much older she looks with her hair up, in that way too. Cathalina is still our little dreamer,—isn’t she lovely!”

“Being engaged had made Lilian seem older,” said Pauline. “I noticed it last year when she came back after Christmas, even before she wore her ring. Where is Cathalina’s brother now? Do you know, Hilary?”

“Yes. He and his cousin, Campbell Stuart, and Robert Paget, Philip’s other chum, have all been sent to a Southern camp to train recruits. They are lieutenants or something. You know they were at a military school before they went to the university for their last years.”

“Ah, Hilary Lancaster,—I might have known that you would know all about it. There’s Helen Paget now. Robert is her cousin, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Miss Tracy,” replied Hilary, pretending to be distant because of Pauline’s implied reference to Hilary’s interest in Campbell Stuart.

Lilian and Cathalina had stopped to chat a moment with Isabel Hunt and Virginia Hope, two juniors, who had come down to the beach to see them off. The sun fell on Lilian’s gold locks and Cathalina’s light brown ones as they leaned over the side of the boat talking. Neither girl wore a hat, but each had a silk scarf around her neck to tie over flying hair if the wind proved too troublesome.

“Why didn’t we have a senior-junior affair, Isabel,” Lilian was saying, “So you and Virgie could come along?”

“Couldn’t overload the Greycliff,” replied Isabel. “Now if it looks like a storm don’t start back in a hurry,” warned she. “I don’t want to walk the floor the way I did two years ago on the night of the wreck!”

“No danger, is there, Mickey,” replied Cathalina, looking at the ubiquitous and efficient Mickey, who was stowing away various impedimenta in the little cabin of the Greycliff. Mickey was still the chief life-saver and mainstay of Greycliff school in more lines than one.

“The weather’s goin’ to be foine,” replied Mickey, without much enthusiasm, for he was used to the ways of girls. “And oime goin’ meself this trip.”

“Thanks, Mickey. An awful load is off my mind. Goodbye, girls, have a good time.”

“Sit here, Cathalina and Lilian, do!” invited Juliet Howe and Helen Paget, as the girls passed them, and pointed to two seats near.

“Yes, do,” seconded Diane Percy, moving along to make room.

“Aren’t you nice—” said Cathalina patting Diane’s red cheeks lightly as she edged her way on, “but the girls are saving seats for us, you see. How does it happen that you are not with your room-mates?” she continued, looking at Juliet and Helen.

“O, we thought that Pauline and Eloise needed a rest,” said Juliet, with a laugh. “We still speak to each other, however.”

There had been some changes in the matter of room-mates, but the personnel of “Lakeview Suite,” so long the headquarters of Hilary Lancaster, Betty Barnes, Cathalina Van Buskirk and Lilian North, was unchanged. The neighboring suite, occupied by Juliet and Pauline, Eloise and Helen, had also earned a name, but the girls were as yet uncertain what to call it, though as Pauline said it was high time they called it something before their last year at Greycliff should be over. When they were making out their schedules of study for the year, Eloise had suggested that it be called the “Labor Union,” but that name was scornfully rejected as not inspirational enough. As Helen was now president of the Psyche Club, Cathalina had suggested that the suite be called the Olympic Portal, or O. P., and while the girls had also rejected this name, she and Betty sometimes referred to the suite as the “O. P.”

Cathalina and Lilian finally settled themselves, Cathalina by Betty, still her room-mate, and Lilian by Eloise, for Lilian had brought her guitar and hastened to get it out of its case. Eloise was already strumming upon her ukulele, and rose to look around for anyone else who had one. But the other girls had either forgotten their instruments or had not wanted to bother with them.

“Start ’em off, Hilary,” said Lilian to her room-mate. “I can’t lead and play too, and neither can Eloise.”

Hilary obediently started the Greycliff songs and some of the war songs so popular then, for the girls never started anywhere upon the water without singing. “The Long, Long Trail,” “Tipperary,” and “Keep the Home Fires Burning,” followed in due order after the Greycliff songs, and Eloise and Lilian sang “I May Be Gone For a Long, Long Time,” which Lilian had brought with her from New York. It was comparatively new to the girls, but one after the other joined, as the catchy tune was supplemented by the chords and “plunks” of guitar and ukulele. Lilian was in a gay humor, for she had just received a bright letter from Phil, who complained that he supposed he would be kept training in this country till the end of the war, but told of many funny experiences, and the fact that he might be in America for some time to come was of much relief to both Lilian and Cathalina.

“Why, where are you going, Mickey?” asked one of the girls in surprise, as she saw that they were going out in the open lake far beyond where they usually turned toward the famous old “Island.” This could now be seen at their left in the distance.

“Oi have a surprise fur ye,” said Mickey, turning the wheel a little. “Wait a minute an’ ye can see a little flag on the shore. The trustees has bought a new playground for ye, where there ain’t no rocks.”

Great surprise and pleasure was evident on the faces of all the girls who could hear what Mickey said, and the word was passed around to the others. They all watched with interest, while the boat chugged on, several miles further on, and then turned nearer shore, toward a sandy beach and a new dock. As they approached, several gulls which had been perching there spread their wings and flew away. “Oh,” exclaimed Lilian, “this ought to be called ‘White Wings.’ Look at the terns fishing out there!”

“It does seem to be a regular feeding place for the birds,” said Hilary with great interest. “Of course, the wings are not all white, really,” she added.

“But they look so,” insisted Lilian. “Have they named the place, Mickey?”

“No, m’am, not as I know of,” replied Mickey.

“I’ll write it up, then, for the Greycliff Star,” said Lilian who, as chief editor this year was always looking for “copy,”—“and call it ‘White Wings,’ and perhaps the name will stick to it.”

Carefully the Greycliff was docked and the girls helped carry the lunch ashore, hurrying toward a pretty little summer house which Mickey pointed out to them. It stood back among the trees and was screened, with a floor and picnic tables.

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Betty, “no mosquitoes or bugs at our meals. Blessings on the Greycliff trustees!”

“Let’s ask Miss Perin about it,” suggested Hilary. “She did not look the least bit surprised when Mickey was telling about it, and has probably heard all about it at faculty meeting.”

“All right,” replied Betty,—“isn’t it the funniest thing not to have Miss West for chaperone? We always used to ask for her. I had the shock of my life not to find her here.”

“Our dear ‘Patty’ is getting married about now, I suppose,” said Hilary. “Dr. Norris, I mean Lieutenant Norris, was to have leave of absence and they were to be married this week. But Patty is coming back here as soon as he leaves for France.”

“When will that be?”

“Nobody knows.”

“There is Miss Perin now. Ask her, Hilary.”

The girls joined their young chaperone, who was taking Miss West’s place, with English and Latin classes, at Greycliff.

“Yes,” Miss Perin replied, in answer to Hilary’s question, “this is a farm which was willed to Greycliff and they came into possession of it this past summer. The beach was so fine that they decided to make a new picnic place for the girls of the school, and they rented the farm to a man who is supposed to keep an eye on this part of the grounds as well. They say that they were able to secure a real scientific farmer to run the place because he wanted to experiment with a hydroplane here. He has one or two helpers that are very good and the trustees got him for a very reasonable price to furnish certain things to the school. It gives him a convenient market, too.”

The girls scattered about the beautiful place to see what was there. The “picnic grounds” proper were out upon a point or peninsula where the little screened house had been erected, with a small boat house and another building which proved to be an ice house. Easy enough was it to get a supply of ice to last over the summer. Grounds stretched out to left and right toward the lake, and on the right hand was a little bay, an ideal place for the experiments with hydroplanes. Another small dock was here.