Betty's good-times book was filled, down to the last line on the last page, and the partnership diary had to have several extra leaves pasted inside the cover.

From morning until night there was a constant round of sightseeing.

The shops and streets of London first, the Abbey and the Tower, a hundred places that they had read about and longed to see, and after they had seen, longed to come back to for another visit.
"We can only take a bird's-eye view now and hurry on, but we must certainly come back some other summer," said Mr.Sherman, when Lloyd wanted to linger in the Tower of London among the armour and weapons that had been worn by the old knights, centuries ago.

He repeated it when Betty looked back longingly at the Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey, where the great organ was echoing down the solemn aisles, and again when Eugenia begged for another coach ride out to Hampton Court.
"'Gay go up and gay go down To ring the bells of London town," sang the Little Colonel.

"I am having such a good time that I'd like to stay on right heah all the rest of the summah." But she thought that about nearly every other place they visited, Windsor, and Warwick Castle, and Shakespeare's birthplace,--the quaint little village on the Avon; Ambleside, where they took the coach for long rides among the lakes made famous by the poets who lived among them and made them immortal with their songs.
From these English lakes to Scottish moors, from the land of hawthorne to the land of heather, from low green meadows where the larks sang, to the highlands where plaided shepherds watched their flocks, they went with enthusiasm that never waned.