Book Description
“I do think waiting for a steamer is the horridest, pokiest performance in the world! You never know when they're coming, no matter how much they sight them and signal them and wireless them!”Mrs. Allen was not pettish, and she spoke half laughingly, but she was wearied with her long wait for the Mauretania, in which she expected her daughter, Nan, and, incidentally, Mr. Fairfield and Patty.“There, there, my dear,” said her husband, soothingly, “I think it will soon arrive now.”“I think so, too,” declared Kenneth Harper, who was looking down the river through field-glasses. “I'm just sure I see that whale of a boat in the dim distance, and I think I see Patty's yellow head sticking over the bow.”“Do you?” cried Mrs. Allen eagerly; “do you see Nan?”“I'm not positive that I do, but we soon shall know, for that's surely the Mauretania.”It surely was, and though the last quarter hour of waiting seemed longer than all the rest, at last the big ship was in front of them, and swinging around in midstream. They could see the Fairfields clearly now, but not being within hearing distance, they could only express their welcome by frantic wavings of hands, handkerchiefs, and flags. But at last the gangplank was put in place, and at last the Fairfields crossed it, and then an enthusiastic and somewhat incoherent scene of reunion followed.
