Greycliff Heroines

A blue-eyed, sunburned, slight young man leaped from a boat to the floating dock at Bath, Maine, and reached back for baggage handed him by two red-faced boys who were evidently most uncomfortable at being once more dressed in the garb of civilization. One of them pulled at his collar, and moved his head uneasily, as he balanced on the edge of the little launch, and then sprang out with a whoop which was the vent for his suppressed spirits.

“So long, boys,” said the two, in farewell to two others who remained in the boat.

“So long.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Stuart.”

“Goodbye, boys.”

The launch chugged away up the river toward Boothbay Camp, and the tall young camp councillor, with the two boys and their luggage, as well as his own, started up the slight rise toward the main street of the quaint New England town.

At the same time, an attractive, well-dressed lady, apparently under middle age, was walking briskly in the direction of this little street which led to the dock, and just before starting to cross it she saw the party of three coming toward her. Whereupon she waited, smiling a little.

“Well met, Campbell Stuart,” said she.

In pleased surprise, the young councillor stopped and held out his hand. “So here you are, Auntie! I was wondering when you would get here! All alone? Too early for the girls, I guess. I didn’t see anything of the boats from Merrymeeting Camp as we came down the river. However, that is no sign that they aren’t coming in shortly. I have to take these kids to the station up here and see that they make their train. Where shall I meet you and the girls?”

“I just came in on the train from Portland, and we forgot to arrange by letter just where to meet. So I think I’d better go down to the dock, don’t you?”

“It isn’t much of a place for you to stay, Aunt Sylvia, but I’ll be back soon, and you will be sure to catch the girls there. Where’s the car?—and Phil?”

“In Boston,” replied Mrs. Van Buskirk with a comical look. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Are these some of the young gentlemen from the boys’ camp?”

The boys, who had been standing aside, though listening with interest to the conversation, were introduced and soon hurried off, while Mrs. Van Buskirk went down to the dock, to which she had been directed, and sat down on a long bench there, with people who were waiting for some boat. Presently she saw the boats from Merrymeeting Girls’ Camp, which she recognized because of their load of happy girls, and walked across the muddy driveway toward the floating dock, where she saw that they were about to land. Her first glimpse of her daughter Cathalina came when the girls began to disentangle themselves from mass formation, and Cathalina jumped out, shaking out the wrinkles in her dress and tucking back wisps of hair which had been blown about by the Kennebec breezes.

“I don’t know where we shall find Mother,” Cathalina was saying, as Hilary and June Lancaster, Betty Barnes and Lilian North joined her, “but we can walk on up and look for the car. We forgot to appoint the spot.” Just then she saw her mother. “Why, Mothery! How nice of you to come down to meet us! Where’s Phil? Here are the rest of us.”

Mrs. Van Buskirk warmly greeted each girl and they turned away from the river to join the scattering girls, who made quite a procession up the short street.

“We have to see June off, you know, Mother,” explained Cathalina. “She goes straight through with the girls and councillors of that crowd. A good many of our friends are leaving. Do you care if we go?”

“Not at all. Where shall we meet?”

“You couldn’t take us to the station?”

“The car isn’t here, dear; it is in Boston.”

“Mercy! What shall we do!” exclaimed Cathalina.

“I have a good plan.” Cathalina and her mother were walking together and the rest of their group followed. “Do you think that they would enjoy going by boat to Boston?—at my expense, of course.”

Cathalina hesitated a moment. “Why, I imagine they’d like it. But why the change?”

“Your father could get away, he found, and we have been up in the White Mountains for a week and more. Then he went back and I came on to Portland for a few days. Philip was delayed until your father returned to New York. The chauffeur was to have the car and Philip in Boston either today or tomorrow, and I arrived at Bath about an hour ago—at your service, my daughter!”

Cathalina laughed. “I see. Our house party is to begin on a boat. You are a dear and a darling. Do you mind coming with us to the station? I’d like to have you meet some of the girls. Frances Anderson and Marion Thurman we may not see for a long time. They do not go to Greycliff, you know.”

“Very well. Campbell just went to the station with two sunburned boys from camp. I met him as I was coming to the dock. By the way, your own complexions are of the stylish summer type.”

“Oh, yes! We’re always in the state of being either red, blistered or brown. The girls with black hair are the only ones that show any contrast.”

At the station Mrs. Van Buskirk was highly entertained. It had been a long time since she had seen so many girls abroad together. There were eager last messages, goodbyes, clusters of happy, laughing girls, and finally the moving train, bright faces in windows and waving hands. Campbell had joined the party, and after the train left they returned to seats in the station while the matter of getting to Boston was under consideration. Mrs. Van Buskirk explained the change of plan as she had to Cathalina, to find the young people quite pleased with the idea of the boat trip to Boston.

“The boat does not leave till somewhere around seven o’clock,” said Campbell. “I’ll find out the exact time. We can have lunch at the Colonial on the way down. I don’t know what sort of accommodations we shall be able to get.”

“That’s so,” said Cathalina. “There are two parties from our camp taking the trip to Boston, New York and Washington.”

“I took it for granted,” said Mrs. Van Buskirk, “that we’d go by boat, and telegraphed from Portland for reservations.”

“I might have known,” said Cathalina, with relief, knowing, too, that the reservations would include the best staterooms on the steamer.

They left the station, Campbell, with courtesy, accompanying his aunt; but Mrs. Van Buskirk said that she must talk to Cathalina about several matters and thus changed the order of march. Betty and Lilian purposely fell in together, leaving Hilary free for Campbell.

“This house party,” said Campbell, “is one fine plan of Aunt Sylvia’s.”

“I guess Cathalina thought it up, didn’t she?” replied Hilary.

“Yes, but it takes Aunt Sylvia to give people the time of their lives!”

“She is too lovely for words,” assented Hilary. “I’ll never forget my other visit in New York. And she doesn’t seem to be making any effort, either.”

“She makes kind plans and is fortunate in having the means to carry them out. But I believe that her house is really the center of operations for our whole clan, the ‘sisters and cousins and aunts,’ as you said.”

“Shall we see the relatives this time?”

“Ann Maria’s home, I believe, and the Van Nesses. But you are not to spend too much time with any of them. I’m going to show you New York!”

“O, indeed!” laughed Hilary. “That sounds interesting. It will seem different from the wintry days I spent there and will be another new experience.”