The face of her questioner cleared.
"All right, girls," she called, beckoning to two others who stood a little way off. "She's Betty. I was sure I hadn't make a mistake."
Betty found herself surrounded by three laughing faces, beaming with good-will and cordiality.
"We must introduce ourselves," said the girl who had first spoken to her. "This is Louise," pointing to a gray-eyed miss apparently about Betty's age. "This is Esther." A girl with long yellow braids and pretty even white teeth bobbed a shy acknowledgment. "And of course I'm Roberta, Bobby for short."
"And if we don't hurry, we'll be late for dinner," suggested the girl who had been called Louise. "You know Carter isn't as patient as he once was; he hates to have to wait."
Bobby thrust her arm through Betty's protectingly.
"Come on, Betty," she said comfortably. "Never mind about your trunk check. Carter will drive down after it early in the morning."
Betty's bewildered mind was vaguely appreciative of the wide sweep of open plaza which lay before them as they came out on the other side of the station, but before she could say a word she was gently bundled into a handsome automobile, a girl on either side of her and one opposite, and the grim-faced, silver-haired old chauffeur, evidently slightly intolerant of the laughter and high spirits of his young passengers, had started to thread his way through the lane of taxicabs and private cars.
Betty was intensely puzzled, to put it mildly. Her uncle had mentioned no girls in his letters to her, and even supposing that she had missed some letters, it was hardly possible that he should not have let fall an explanatory word or two from time to time.
"I thought Uncle Dick would come down to meet me," she said, voicing her surprise at last.