England never knew, and wonderful blackberries, of great size
and sweetness, bursting with purple juice. There were ices too, served
in the shapes of apples, pears, and stalks of asparagus, which dazzled
her country eyes not a little, while the whole was a terror and
astonishment to her thrifty English mind.

"Lionel, don't keep on ordering things so," she protested. "We are
eating our heads off as it is, I am sure."

"My dear young friend, you are come to the Land of Fat Things," he
replied. "Dinner costs just the same, once you sit down to it, whether
you have a biscuit and a glass of water, or all these things."

"I call it a sinful waste, then," she retorted. "But all the same, since
it is so, I'll take another ice."

"'First endure, then pity, then embrace,'" quoted her brother. "That's
right, Moggy; pitch in, spoil the Egyptians. It doesn't hurt them, and
it will do you lots of good."

From the dinner-table they went straight to the theatre, having decided
to follow Lieut. Worthington's advice and see "Rip Van Winkle." And then
they straightway fell under the spell of a magician who has enchanted
many thousands before them, and for the space of two hours forgot
themselves, their hopes and fears and expectations, while they followed
the fortunes of the idle, lovable, unpractical Rip, up the mountain to
his sleep of years, and down again, white-haired and tottering, to find
himself forgotten by his kin and a stranger in his own home. People
about them were weeping on relays of pocket-handkerchiefs, hanging them
up one by one as they became soaked, and beginning on others. Imogen had
but one handkerchief, but she cried with that till she had to borrow
Lionel's; and he, though he professed to be very stoical, could not
quite command his voice as he tried to chaff her in a whisper on her
emotions, and begged her to "dry up" and remember that it was only a
play after all, and that presently Jefferson would discard his white
hair and wrinkles, go home to a good supper, and make a jolly end to the
evening.

It was almost too exciting for a first night on shore, and if Imogen had
not been so tired, and if her uncurtained bed had not proved so
deliciously comfortable, she would scarcely have slept as she did till
half-past seven the next morning, so that they had to scramble through
breakfast not to lose their train. Once started in the "Limited," with a
library and a lady's-maid, a bath and a bed at her disposal, and