I hope so for many reasons," smiled Colonel Baxter. "It will be worth three times as much money if she owned it."
"Wouldn't old Peter Gruff open his eyes wide if he could see it?" exclaimed Bet. "How that man loves antiques!"
Peter Gruff was a second-hand dealer in Lynnwood whose hobby was picking up antiques at a ridiculously low price and selling them at fabulous sums. In a trade, he could stand watching.
As the Colonel folded up the fan carefully and put it away, Bet exclaimed: "Come on, girls, there's something in my room that I'd like to show you."
"Wait a minute, Shirley," called the Colonel. "Do you want to take a picture of the queen's fan for me?"
"Oh, Colonel Baxter, do you suppose I can do it?"
"Certainly, there's no trick about it. Bring your camera the next time you come up."
"That will be on Monday morning."
"Good! I'll be home until noon."
Half an hour later the toot of an auto horn sounded from the driveway.
"Aw, that's Bob coming to take me home," pouted Joy. "Wish he'd wait until I telephone. He always comes before I'm half ready."
The Colonel was at the door before the young man could ring the bell. Bob Evans and Phil Gordon were two boys that the Colonel admired and was always glad to welcome to the Manor.
Like his sister, Bob was light-hearted. Yet he could be serious at times, and it is well that that was the case, for Joy's mother was a gay, frivolous young woman, who loved to go to parties and there were times when Joy might have been neglected had it not been for her brother's care.
He was a slightly built boy with a head of curly blond locks that were the envy of Joy, for her hair was neither blond nor dark and had no sign of curl.
Phil was the opposite. He was almost as dark as Kit, a tall, handsome fellow whose dark eyes were sombre and gave the impression that he was brooding.
Bob seemed to bring the breeze from outside in with him as he smiled and held out his hand to Colonel Baxter.
"Joy would never come home if I didn't drag her away, Colonel."
"That's because we are never quite willing to give up our little sprite," replied the Colonel with Old World courtesy. "We couldn't get along without Joy's laughter."
"Giggles, you mean," answered her brother playfully.
"Sounds just like a brother!" laughed Joy, looking up at the pleasant-faced boy beside her.
Bob and Phil were introduced to Kit and were quite startled at the vision of the Colonial maid.
"Having a masquerade?" asked Phil.
"Nothing like that," answered Bet. "Lady Betty Merriweather decided to come out of her frame, and here she is."
"She's much better looking than Lady Betty, if you ask me," exclaimed Bob, but if Kit liked the compliment she didn't show it. Lady Betty was perfect and no one could outdo her in anything.
"Come on, Joy, hurry up. Let's get started!" said Bob suddenly.
"But we'll have to wait for Kit to get out of that dress and change to her own."
"So Lady Merriweather isn't going to step back into the frame? Too bad!" laughed Phil. "It was very becoming!"
The girl who appeared a few moments later in torn skirt was no less attractive than the Colonial maid. To the eyes of the modern young people, she seemed far more human and companionable.
As the automobile carried them away. Bet turned to her father:
"Did you ever see anyone who could choose such good friends as I can?"
"Never in this world, Bet!" laughed the Colonel as he pinched her cheek.
CHAPTER V
ACROSS THE HUDSON
Before saying goodnight to her chums, Bet had made a plan for them to come back early on Monday for another picnic.
"When we get to studying, we just drop swimming and everything else."
"I'll be most afraid to swim in a big river like the Hudson," said Kit with a shiver. "I learned to swim in a water hole in Indian Creek, and it wasn't much more than just deep enough to cover me."
"You'll love the Hudson!" declared Joy. "At high tide it's great!"
"I didn't know that a river had a tide."
"Close to the sea they do. The Hudson has, as you'll soon learn. It has a tide and even a good strong undertow in places. – Well, you just have to know the Hudson to appreciate all its fine points," Bet exclaimed with enthusiasm.
"Be sure and bring your camera, Miss Fixit, and take that picture of the queen's fan. I'll be home all morning." Because Shirley was always tinkering with her camera, the Colonel had playfully given her the name of Miss Fixit.
So the girls had agreed to come early and have a long day at the beach that belonged to the Merriweather estate.
"I don't hear any invitations for us to come along. Don't you think boys enjoy picnics as well as girls?" protested Bob Evans.
"Boys spoil all the fun," said Joy contemptuously, but with mischief in her eyes.
"No, they don't, Joy!" Bet disagreed. "Sometimes they are very useful. – To build picnic fires and keep them going."
"Oh, yes, you're always glad to make use of us. But you never invite us to any of your good times. Never!"
"If big brothers wouldn't tease so much, they might get invited once in a while," laughed Joy as she looked up at her tall brother, who had always been her protector and hero as long as she could remember.
"Do come," shouted Bet as they got into the car. "Even if we didn't think to invite you, we'll be mighty glad to see you when you get there." As she turned and linked her arm in her father's, she little dreamed that her last remark would be remembered by all four girls as a strange prophecy.
The girls saw each other only for a moment at church the next day. Bet left immediately after the service, as the Colonel was expecting guests for dinner. She gave her friends a smile, a wave of the hand and a funny pantomime which they understood. They were to be at the Manor the next morning, early.
And early it was. Bet had been up for hours but Colonel Baxter had not finished his breakfast when the girls came in like shafts of sunlight through shutters.
Shirley was loaded down with two cameras and a tripod, her face glowing with the pleasure she felt in being able to do a favor for Bet's father.
Shirley was the only one of the group whose parents were not well off financially. She was the oldest of four children and lived in a small house on the main street of the village. She had done all sorts of odd jobs in order to earn her longed-for cameras, and had studied them well.
Sometimes when the girls talked of the future when they would go to college, Shirley's face became clouded, for her father's poor health made it impossible for him to be steadily employed. Shirley's chances of college seemed very slim. The Colonel often called upon Shirley to take pictures of Bet on the grounds of the estate, as an excuse to give the girl a chance to earn a few dollars.
"Do hurry, Dad, and finish your breakfast! We're anxious to be off. Couldn't the pictures wait?"
"No, Bet, I want to take them now," replied Shirley. "You can go along if you want to and I'll come later."
"We'll wait," answered Bet cheerfully.
The Colonel rose and saluted, "I am at your service!"
Shirley arranged the lighting like an expert and took several poses of the little fan against a background of black velvet, placing it in different degrees of light. The other girls were not particularly interested. Shirley's hobby was all right, when she took pictures of them, but just now they were impatient to be off.
Then Shirley had to waste more time showing the Colonel about the latest self-photography attachment that she had recently bought.
"I got