umbrella, and the lantern.

Lord Edward gave a short, peculiar bark as we shut the gate behind
us, but whether it was meant as a fond farewell, or a hoot of
derision, I cannot say.

We found everything as we left it at the camp, and we made our beds
apparently dry. But I did not sleep well. I could not help
thinking that it was not safe to sleep in a bed with a substratum
of wet mattress, and I worried Euphemia a little by asking her
several times if she felt the dampness striking through.

To our great delight, the next day was fine and clear, and I
thought I would like, better than anything else, to take Euphemia
in a boat up the river and spend the day rowing about, or resting
in shady places on the shore.

But what could we do about the tent? It would be impossible to go
away and leave that, with its contents, for a whole day.

When old John came with our water, milk, bread, and a basket of
vegetables, we told him of our desired excursion, and the
difficulty in the way. This good man, who always had a keen scent
for any advantage to himself, warmly praised the boating plan, and
volunteered to send his wife and two of his younger children to
stay with the tent while we were away.

The old woman, he said, could do her sewing here as well as
anywhere, and she would stay all day for fifty cents.