At that moment a bell rang.

Captain Boyson rose.
"That's the signal for closing.

I think we ought to be moving up." They strolled slowly towards the house, watching the stream of excursionists pour out of the house and gardens, and wind down the hill; sounds of talk and laughter filled the air, and the western sun touched the spring hats and dresses.
"The holidays end to-morrow," said Daphne Floyd demurely, as she walked beside young Barnes.

And she looked smiling at the crowd of young women, as though claiming solidarity with them.
A teacher?
A teacher of music ?--with that self-confidence--that air as though the world belonged to her! The young man was greatly mystified.
But he reminded himself that he was in a democratic country where all men--and especially all women--are equal.

Not that the young women now streaming to the steamboat were Miss Floyd's equals.