“‘Dear Virginia and Everybody Else:

“‘It is only through Anne’s economy and Jess’ impudence and my genius at conducting a party that we are here and writing to you. Had each of us lacked the quality named above, we should to-day doubtless be languishing within the walls of a German poor-house. But instead we are in a lovely pension—all together and unspeakably happy. 71

“‘The story in itself is so thrilling that I hate to give you the necessary setting, as Miss Wallace would say, but I must. The first step is to explain how we all happen to be together. It was this way: Father and Jess and I did stay in England for a week after all. You see, Jess had faithfully promised every girl in English History that she would see Lady Jane Grey’s name where she had cut it herself in the Tower; and I had given my oath to record the impressions made upon me by the sight of Kenilworth by moonlight. Whether Dad would have considered those vows worthy or not, we do not know, had it not been that he wanted to go to the Bodleian Library at Oxford to see some musty old manuscript or other. So on our way from Liverpool to Oxford we stopped at Kenilworth, and I did see it at moonlight. I shall give my impressions at a later date. The search for another old manuscript gave Jess her chance at the Tower and “JANE,” and it was there in the little chapel that we met Anne and Mrs. Hill.

“‘They had planned the most wonderful week 72 down in Surrey in a tiny English village called Shere, which Anne said was, according to the guide-books, “the perfect realization of an artist’s dream.” She begged us to go along with them, and poor Mrs. Hill, I suppose, felt obliged to invite us also, though what she may have said to Anne in private I do not yet know. We became imbued with desire to see the artist’s dream realized and to be with Anne, so with Jess to hurry Mrs. Hill and me to drag Anne, we tore through Billingsgate fish-market and up King William Street to the Bank, where we were to meet Father.

“‘After the poor man had recovered from his astonishment, he gave his consent—namely, that we should go to Surrey with Anne and Mrs. Hill (if they really wanted us) then across the channel to Rotterdam, up the Rhine and on to Berlin, where he would meet us. Mrs. Hill really seemed glad to have us go with them and, to be very frank, I think the Rev. Dr. Blackmore was glad to get rid of us. You see, Jess and I simply can’t get enthusiastic over the Middle Ages and old manuscripts, and I think it worries Dad. 73

“‘Well, our learned father went on to Berlin, and his imbecile offspring to Surrey. Shere was lovely! My dream was realized at least. I’ll never forget the little gardens filled with roses and Canterbury bells, and the grain-fields dotted with poppies, and the woods filled with holly and tall pink foxgloves, and the beeches all silvery and green. We rode bicycles all over Surrey, and ate roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and drank ginger beer at quaint little English inns. You’ll hear all about it next year in English class, for I’ve themes enough for everybody—at least material for them.

“‘Then we went back to London, and had all sorts of adventures there, from our cab-horse falling flat in Piccadilly Circus to Jess being arrested at the House of Commons gate; but if Mrs. Hill ever repented of her invitation she didn’t let us know, and we were never happier in our lives.

“‘We started for Rotterdam the 14th of July, crossed the Channel with flying colors since we went to bed immediately upon going aboard, and started up the Rhine the next day on a boat 74 appropriately named the Siegfried. The first day we went through flat Holland country, but on the next we had reached the hills, all walled-up and covered with vineyards. That evening we arrived at Cologne, where we were to stay a day to see the Cathedral, and went to our hotel. And here the great adventure begins!

“‘No sooner had we arrived at the hotel and asked for mail, than the clerk handed Mrs. Hill a telegram. It was from her music-teacher in Berlin, and asked her to be in Berlin the next day without fail for a lesson. What was she to do? She said she just couldn’t miss the lesson, and yet she just couldn’t bear to take us girls before we had seen the Cathedral or the castles on the Rhine.

“‘It didn’t take Jess and Anne and me long to decide. She must go on, of course, we told her, and we would see the Cathedral, go up the rest of the Rhine quite by ourselves, and on by train from Mayence to Berlin. We could see she was hesitating, probably feeling that Anne might be trusted, but not being exactly sure of those Blackmore twins. 75

“‘“The language?” she said. “Your German? You may not find English spoken everywhere, you know.”

“‘Anne hastened to remark that I had studied German for three years, and carried off honors. Her imagination gave birth to the honors, whereupon I, wishing above all else to play my part, cleared my throat, thought a moment, and requested the clerk to bring me a glass of water, which he did with a grin.

“‘Whether my visible success reassured Mrs. Hill or not, I do not know, but anyhow she departed that night for Berlin, leaving us loaded with endless instructions, extra money, and a tiny red German dictionary. I never felt so officious in my life as when I called a cab and ushered Jess and Anne into it after the train had pulled out. I can see now why it is that Thomas Cook and Son have been so eminently successful.

“‘The next day we spent browsing around in the Cathedral. To describe it would be out of place in this letter, which deals primarily with adventure. I might say, however, that Jess bought 76 all of you silver pendants of the Three Wise Men of Cologne, when she ought to have saved her money. That evening we took the Rhine-boat—the Parsifal this time—and when we awoke in the morning we were well among the castles. It was a marvelous day, and I’ll have loads to tell you about it in the fall.

“‘We reached Mayence in the evening in a pouring rain, and took a cab, driven by a funny, red-faced driver, to a hotel where English was spoken, for however Mrs. Hill may have been impressed by my honors in German she had taken care to recommend English hotels. Our train for Berlin was to leave at nine A.M., so we went to bed early, feeling too self-resourceful for words.

“‘Do you remember how, with cheers for St. Helen’s and groans for Athens, we bequeathed Greenie to the Ancient World last winter? Who at that joyous moment would have thought that she would again and so soon enter our lives? Imagine then, if you can, the chill of horror which shook us all when upon alighting at the Mayence station the next morning, ready to take our train 77 for Berlin, we beheld—unmistakably beheld—our beloved Greenie by the drinking-fountain!!! Her back was toward us, and all the proofs we had at that moment were the hang of her familiar gray suit, and our old friend, that absurd chicken feather, awry upon her little, black, St. Helen’s hat. We stood breathless and surveyed her.

“‘“It is!” said Jess. “Let’s run!”

“‘“It’s not!” said Anne. “She’s in Athens. Besides, she’s too antiseptic to drink at a fountain!”

“‘“I believe it is,” said I. “It’s just as well to look for shelter!”

“‘“Of course, it is,” said Jess. “That chicken-feather——”

“‘And just then she looked up! There was no longer any question as to identity. In spite of drinking-fountains and Athens, it was Greenie! She looked quite the same as ever, except for the absence of the gray shawl, and no visible effects of curl-papers.

“‘Whether it was Providence, Greenie’s near-sightedness or our own speed that saved us, I 78 don’t know; but I do know we took her bearings and all ran in opposite directions. She was going through the door marked South. Anne accordingly ran north, Jess east, and I west.

“‘“Meet in five minutes at the fountain,” I commanded hoarsely as we separated.

“‘That was the last we saw of Greenie’s visible form. How she happened to be in Mayence we knew not. Jess insisted she never reached Athens at all, but was discovered en route at Mayence, placed in the Museum there, and was simply out on parole for exercise! Be that as it may, the excitement of seeing her, and the flight which followed, proved most disastrous to us all, for when we met five minutes later at the fountain, the Blackmore purse, carried by Jess, was gone!

“‘Anne and I stood and glared at my poor twin just as though dropping a purse were a disgrace which could never come to us even when escaping from Miss Green. I informed her of a fact which she has known for eighteen years—namely, that twenty dollars, the amount in the purse, 79 might be a trifle to some, but was colossal in the eyes of a minister’s family. Anne was less scathing, but by no means charitable. Poor Jess, on the verge of tears, suggested that instead of scolding her we’d better look for the purse, which we proceeded to do without success.

“‘Thereupon Anne counted her money, my honors in German of course being a constant help. A twenty mark piece—five dollars; a ten mark piece—two dollars and a half; and some change amounting to four marks or another dollar. Eight dollars and fifty cents in all, and three persons, who had had no breakfast, must be transported to Berlin!

“‘“It’s impossible!” said Anne.

“‘“It’s got to be done!” said I.

“‘“If I have to beg on the streets, it shall be done!” cried Jess, so loudly that every one in the station looked in our direction.

“‘“How much are the tickets?” asked Anne. “Mother said to go second-class in Germany.”

“‘“I’ll see,” said I officiously, and started toward a blue-capped official in a cage. 80

“‘“You’d best hurry,” cried Anne. “The train goes in twenty minutes.”

“‘I smiled upon the somber man in the cage and asked in my best and clearest English how much the tickets were. A blank stare was his only answer. He understood no English, and to save my life I could think of no German. I stammered and stammered but with no success, and in a few seconds a fat German lady with six children and a dog had unceremoniously pushed me out of the way. I tried another official and another with the same result. A helpless feeling seized me. I looked at the clock. Five minutes out of the twenty gone! I ran back frantically to Jess and Anne, snatched the little red dictionary, and was off again in search of still another official. This time I was understood, bad as was my German, but I couldn’t understand, so things were as hopeless as ever.

“‘Ten minutes before train time I returned desperate to my twin and Anne, and confessed that honors in German were of no assistance whatsoever. We gazed at one another blankly 81 Money gone—hope gone—what should we do? At that moment Jess darted away. Our first thought was that she had spied Miss Green, and was leaving us to our fate for revenge; but a moment later we saw that she had seized upon a tall man, who had been quietly crossing the platform. Her impudence was appalling! She grabbed the man by the arm without a word of explanation, and literally dragged him toward us. I don’t think she had spoken to him at all until she reached Anne and me.

“‘“Here,” she said, pointing a finger of scorn at me, “here is my sister who is supposed to know German and doesn’t. She’ll tell you how you can help us out.”

“‘The man, who wore a Thomas Cook and Son hat, was very polite after he had recovered from his surprise. I explained the difficulty we were in as quickly as possible, and he, in turn, said that second-class tickets to Berlin cost in the neighborhood of four dollars, that the train left in seven minutes, and that if we would give him the money he would gladly make the purchase. 82

“‘“Four dollars!” gasped Anne. “Apiece, you mean, or together?”

“‘“Apiece,” said the man.

“‘“Then we can’t go,” said Anne. “I knew it all the time.” And she dropped in a limp little heap on the bench near by just as though she never could get up.

“‘“Why, what’s the matter?” asked the man. “Out of money?”

“‘Then Jess, who was really to blame, felt called upon to explain.

“‘“Yes, sir, we are,” she said, “all but eight dollars and fifty cents. You see, we experienced a severe shock in seeing G—— Miss Green, an old teacher of ours, by the drinking-fountain, when we thought she was in Athens. We didn’t feel as though we could speak to her until—until we had washed and brushed up a little, and so we—well, we ran, and somehow I lost our family purse.”

“‘“I see,” said the man.

“‘He seemed very interested all of a sudden, and said we needn’t worry at all if we had eight 83 dollars and a half. There was another train leaving an hour later, he said—a train which carried third-class carriages. We would be quite safe in traveling that way, and he would personally see us on board, if we wished. At that Anne and her spirits arose.

“‘“Miss Green,” he repeated. “You say she was your teacher?”

“‘“Yes,” said I wonderingly. “She most certainly was.”

“‘“Harriet, her given name?” asked the man.

“‘“Yes!” cried Jess and Anne and I all together. “You don’t know her, do you?”

“‘“An angular person in a gray suit?” he continued. “Wears spectacles and——”

“‘“Crimps,” interrupted Jess. “Yes, she’s the one, though she hasn’t any this morning. You see, at school she always was a little—well, formidable, and we——”

“‘“I see,” said the man again. “Well, since I know she’s around here, I may as well wait. I told her to be at our office just outside the station at ten o’clock, and it’s nearly that now. You 84 see,” he explained, “she’s been in Athens for six months, and she’s very anxious to conduct a small party back there—lecture on the ancient civilization and all that sort of thing, you know. Perhaps, since she was your teacher, you’ll be able to tell me how she’d do. She hasn’t had time to get recommendations for just this sort of work, you see.”

“‘“How—how long would she be gone?” ventured Jess.

“‘“Well,” explained the Thomas Cook man, “if she did well, we’d probably keep her on the force. We’re always looking for folks like that—to take parties—especially to Athens or Egypt. They’re rare! This might be a life job.”

“‘“I’d be willing to recommend her!” said Jess, a little too promptly, I thought.

“‘“I think,” said Anne, “it depends a good deal on the party she’s going to take.”

“‘“It certainly does,” I agreed.

“‘“Well,” said the man again, “it’s an easy party. There’s a professor who’s nearly eighty, and who’s wanted all his life to go to Athens; 85 and a minister who’s trying to discover the exact spot where Paul preached to the Athenians; and a couple of teachers who are something like Miss Green, I think—about that type, you know. They’re terribly interested in the temples on the Acropolis.”

“‘“Miss Green then is certainly the woman for you, sir,” I announced, feeling like an Employment Bureau. “She’s steeped in the Ancient World! She dotes on Rameses and the Pharaohs and the Tarquins and Solon; and she knows more about every one of them than she knows about—us, for instance.”

“‘“I see,” said the man.

“‘“The only reason we hesitated for a moment,” added Anne, “was because we thought the party might be composed of young people, and, you see, Miss Green has never specialized to any great extent in—in—young life!”

“‘“I understand perfectly,” said our benefactor. “I guess I’ll run along, young ladies. She might be in my office. Get your tickets from the man in the red cap at the largest window 86 over there. He speaks English. Your train will reach Berlin at seven. It’s on track four. Don’t thank me at all. I’m indebted to you. Won’t you walk to the office and see Miss Green? She’d be delighted, I’m sure!”

“‘Anne answered for us. “No, thank you,” she said. “I’m afraid we can’t. We haven’t had breakfast yet, and we must telegraph my mother. She’ll expect us earlier. Yes, thank you, I’m sure we can manage quite well alone. Give Miss Green our best regards. I’m sure we hope she’ll be successful.”

“‘He shook hands all around.

“‘“You really think,” asked Jess, a little worried in tone, I thought, “you really think it’s likely to be a job for life?”

“‘“Yes,” said the man, “I do. I think she’s the very woman I’ve been looking for.”

“‘Then he went. We stood looking at one another, not knowing what to say. It had all been too unexpected.”

“‘“Well,” said Jess at last, “I don’t know but that a job for life is cheap at twenty dollars. And, 87 you know, she really expected to return to St. Helen’s year after next.”

“‘We had just time to eat our belated breakfast, telegraph, buy our tickets, and catch the ten o’clock train, which carried us to Berlin without incident, other than embarrassments arising from my total lack of German. We didn’t mind third class at all. It’s a lot more human. Mrs. Hill and Dad met us, and Dad forgot all about the twenty dollars when we told him about Greenie.

“‘I’ve given up seeing the Emperor’s stables to tell you all of this, and I hope you appreciate it. Jess and Anne send loads of love to all of you, and so do I. I can’t believe Wyoming is any better than Germany!