Part 6 (1/2)

Nell's heart beat high as she watched. Was no one going to think of her and Boris? Was no one going to miss them?

Apparently no one was.

The gay cavalcade got under weigh and disappeared from view down the long and lovely beech avenue.

Nell did not wish to go to the picnic, not to-day with her heart so sore, but it made that heart feel all the sorer not to be missed.

CHAPTER VI.

FRIAR'S WOOD.

As a matter of fact, the picnic party imagined that Boris and Nell intended to follow on later in the donkey-cart. The Lorrimer picnics were well known in the neighbourhood. They always pa.s.sed through the village in the following order--first the waggonette, drawn by the bony horse and packed to overflowing with baskets and young people, who waved their arms and shouted in high glee as they went by; then the pony-trap, driven sometimes by Jane Macalister, sometimes, when Jane was in a very good humour, by Kitty or even Boris; and last, at an interval of about half an hour, the donkey-cart. The donkey-cart as a rule contained kettles and pots, for the Lorrimers would consider a picnic only half a picnic if they did not boil their own potatoes out of doors and make their own tea in the woods. Consequently, the coa.r.s.er utensils which were required for the feast were usually reserved for the donkey-cart.

The donkey, as a rule, was driven, or rather led, by Guy, the tall schoolboy, aged thirteen, who would be owner of the Towers, if it were not sold over his head, some day. Harry, the brother next in age, would also accompany the donkey-cart, and sometimes one or two of the younger children would prefer this rough mode of travelling to the more refined waggonette or the fleeter pony-carriage. The donkey-cart had of course to be late, as Guy and Harry would not be home from school until quite an hour after the rest of the party had started.

”Where is Boris?” asked Hester, addressing herself to Molly when they had driven about half of the distance.

Molly had tranquil blue eyes, like her mother.

”Isn't he in the pony-carriage?” she asked.

”Who is Boris?” interrupted Annie Forest. ”Is he the pretty little round-faced boy in the sailor suit?”

”Yes,” said Nora, joining in the conversation.

”Then he's not in the pony-trap,” replied Annie. ”I don't think he left the schoolroom.”

”Cute little beggar,” laughed Nora. ”He wants to come in the donkey-cart.”

Annie raised her brows in inquiry; the mystery of the donkey-cart was explained to her, and no further questions were asked with regard to Boris.

Elinor had not yet been missed.

Friar's Wood was a perfect place for a picnic, and in due course of time the happy cavalcade arrived there. The younger children and Miss Macalister began to make preparations for the first meal. The Lorrimers always had two hearty ones whenever they went on a picnic. Kitty, Nora, and Annie Forest went off to explore the Fairies' Glen, a lovely spot about a quarter of a mile away. Mrs. Lorrimer took out her knitting and sat with her back against a great beech tree, and Molly and Hester found themselves thrown together.

”That's right,” exclaimed Molly. ”I wanted to have a talk with you, Hetty. Will you come to the top of the knoll with me? We can sit there and cool ourselves. There is not the faintest chance of dinner being ready for quite an hour.”

The girls set off at once. Molly was not yet sixteen, Hester was past seventeen, nevertheless they had been intimate friends for a long time.

”Why have you got that little frown between your brows, Molly?” asked Hester.

It smoothed out the moment Hester spoke.

”I surely ought not to have a frown to-day,” retorted Molly. ”The weather is glorious, we are all in perfect health, we are out for a picnic, you are here, you have brought your friend, Annie, about whom we have always heard so much, and Nan is home from school. Yes, I certainly ought not to frown; but let me retort on you, Hester. Why have you those grave lines round your lips?”

”Because I'm a goose,” answered Hester. ”Sit down here, Molly. You have not got me up to the top of this knoll just to make me recount my grievances. Out with yours; you know you have one at least.”

”Well, yes, I have one,” said Molly. ”A horrid little cankering jade--a sort of black imp. I thought I had tucked him up snug in bed until the evening, and there, you have loosened the sheets, and he has sprung up again to confront me.”