They wrote off a cordial assent, and reached Henley in time to see the
dullest town in Europe; and also to see it turn one of the gayest in an
hour or two; so impetuously came both the universities pouring into
it--in all known vehicles that could go _their_ pace--by land and water.


CHAPTER I

IT was a bright hot day in June. Mrs. Dodd and Julia sat half reclining,
with their parasols up, in an open carriage, by the brink of the Thames
at one of its loveliest bends.

About a furlong up stream a silvery stone bridge, just mellowed by time,
spanned the river with many fair arches. Through these the coming river
peeped sparkling a long way above, then came meandering and shining down;
loitered cool and sombre under the dark vaults, then glistened on again
crookedly to the spot where sat its two fairest visitors that day; but at
that very point flung off its serpentine habits, and shot straight away
in a broad stream of scintillating water a mile long, down to an island
in mid-stream: a little fairy island with old trees, and a white temple.
To curl round this fairy isle the broad current parted, and both silver
streams turned purple in the shade of the grove; then winded and melted
from the sight.

This noble and rare passage of the silvery Thames was the Henley
racecourse. The starting-place was down at the island, and the goal was
up at a point in the river below the bridge, but above the bend where
Mrs. Dodd and Julia sat, unruffled by the racing, and enjoying
luxuriously the glorious stream, the mellow bridge crowded with
carriages--whose fair occupants stretched a broad band of bright colour