momentous that it will take me--an hour and a half! But my plans and
yours are all laid. Now, Priscilla, none of your cap and apron look.
You'll do exactly what I tell you to do; and you, too, Doctor Travers."

"I haven't the slightest intention of disobeying. And as for my cap and
apron, I've burned them!" Priscilla tossed her head.

Travers looked at her, and her loveliness seemed enhanced in her trim
white linen gown with its broad collar of Irish lace. How magnificent her
throat was! What a perfect woman she was! And _what_ hair!

"There is a train that leaves here at nine-thirty, a mad little
ramshackle train that goes to The Ghost and back in an hour and a half.
We've all yearned to climb The Ghost, or as much of it as we dared. Now
you two, with Mousey and a servant, are to go on the nine-thirty. I'll
finish my destruction of the social system and catch the eleven o'clock
train. We'll have picnic lunch. They say there's a dreadful cavern at the
base of The Ghost that is corking for picnics, and then we'll explore
until we have to return. Any objections?"

There were none.

"Very well! It's nine now! Priscilla, wear the roughest, heaviest things
you've got. You always have your hours of remorse too late. The Ghost
will chill your blood."

When the little party reached the small station at the mountain foot the
servants started at once to the cavern to build a fire and prepare for
the luncheon.