In spite of boisterous March winds and late spring frosts the sun climbed steadily higher in the sky and the days lengthened. Ingred, who used to arrive home in the twilight at Wynchcote on Friday afternoons, could now dig in the garden after tea. She liked the scent of newly-turned earth, and was happy working away with a trowel transplanting roots of wallflowers and forget-me-nots to make a display in the bed near the dining-room window. At school the various forms vied with one another in shows of hyacinths grown in bowls, the best of which were lent to the studio on drawing days and figured as models for watercolor sketches, together with daffodils and hazel catkins. Lispeth, who did not relax the activities of The Rainbow League, revived her idea of a Posy Union, persuaded some of the girls to bring little pots of gay crocuses or blue squills to school, and after these had been duly exhibited on a table in the lecture-hall, sent them through the agency of a “Children’s Welfare Worker” to brighten the bedsides of various small invalids in the poorer quarters of the town and let them know that spring had arrived.
Eastertide was very near now, and the school would break up for three weeks. Miss Burd was going away to allow her tired brains to lie fallow for a while, and most of the other teachers were looking forward to a well-earned rest apart from their forms. It came as a surprise to everybody when Miss Strong—alone—among the staff—suggested the project of taking some of her pupils for a short walking tour. They were to start off, like pilgrims of old, carrying with them the barest necessaries, and have a four days’ tramp to visit a few of the beauty spots of the neighborhood, spending a couple of nights en route.
“It will be a real open-air holiday,” she assured them. “We shall be out of doors all day long and eat most of our meals by the roadside. I’ve planned it out carefully. A short railway journey to Carford, then walk by easy stages through Ryton-on-the-Heath to Dropwick and Pursborough, where we can get the train again back to Grovebury. I know of two extremely nice Temperance Hotels where we can be put up for the night. By going in this way we shall see the cream of the country. Any girl who is a good walker may join the party.”
It certainly sounded a fascinating program, and after due consideration at home eight girls put their names down for the excursion—Ingred, Verity, Nora, Bess, Linda, Francie, Kitty, and Belle. They felt it would be quite a new experience to know Miss Strong out of school hours; the light in her eyes when she announced the scheme gave promise of hitherto hidden capacities for fun. It circulated round the form that she might prove quite a jolly companion. Those girls who could not join the tour were a trifle wistful and inclined towards envy. They took it out of the pilgrims in gloomy prognostications concerning the weather.
“It will probably rain all the time and you’ll tramp along like a row of drowned rats,” suggested Beatrice.
“It won’t do anything of the sort. I believe we’re going to have a fine mild spell and it will be just glorious. I’m taking my ‘Brownie,’ so there’ll be some snapshots to show we’ve been enjoying ourselves,” retorted Nora briskly. “You stay-at-homes will be sorry for yourselves when you hear our adventures!”
To allow the weather ample chance of improvement, and perhaps also to give Miss Strong time to rest, the excursion was fixed for the last week of the holidays. One morning in mid-April, therefore, found teacher and pupils meeting together on the platform of Grovebury station to catch the 9:25 train to Carford. They wore jerseys and their school hats, and they carried their luggage according to their individual ideas of convenience. Linda wore her little brother’s satchel slung over her back. Nora had borrowed a knapsack, Kitty preferred a parcel, Verity packed her possessions in a string bag, and Bess carried a neat dispatch-case.
“I’d a ripping idea for mine, but it wouldn’t work,” declared Ingred. “I meant to tie my parcel to a balloon and then just lead it along by a string. But I couldn’t get a proper gas balloon for the business, and that’s what you ought to have.”
“And suppose the wind were to blow it away from you, what then?” inquired Miss Strong.
“I suppose I should have to cable it round my waist.”
“Then you might be whisked up with it, and we should see you sailing off into the clouds in a kind of aeroplane holiday instead of a walking tour! I don’t think we can patent your balloon dodge yet.”
“What I want,” said Kitty, “is a sort of child’s light mail-cart arrangement that I could wheel along. It’s what Mother always says she needs for shopping—a parcel-holder on wheels. Why doesn’t somebody invent one? He—or she (I’m sure it would be a she)—would make a fortune.”
“We might have borrowed a perambulator,” said Belle, quite seriously, “and have packed all our luggage into it.”
“Oh, I dare say! And who would have wheeled it?”
“We could have taken it in turns.”
“With long turns for the willing horses, and short turns for shirkers! No, thanks! Better each to stick to our own.”
“Besides which, forget stiles. We hope to try some field paths as well as high roads,” added Miss Strong. “Also I should decidedly have jibbed at escorting a perambulator. Here comes the train! Let us make a dash for an empty carriage and keep it to ourselves.”
It was only a short journey to Carford, but it took them over twelve rather uninteresting miles and put them down just at the commencement of a very beautiful stretch of country where open uplands alternated with wooded coombes, and where the stone-roofed villages were the prettiest in the county.
Miss Strong, who had had some experience of mountaineering
