Together with other girls and boys and men and women, all, like themselves, on pleasure bent, the girls made their way down to the lobby of the great hotel. Seeing nothing of Walter there, they rather timidly stepped out upon the veranda.
The size of it made them gasp, and for a moment they just stood staring stupidly at the seemingly endless vista of chairs and tables and people—Nan and the others were sure there were millions of people.
They might have stood there forever, had not Nan become suddenly aware of the admiring glances of several of the crowd that thronged the piazza. For the four modishly dressed girls formed a very pretty and striking picture.
"Let's sit down or something—everybody is staring at us," she whispered to Rhoda, but at that moment Rhoda caught sight of Walter and waved a commanding hand.
"So here you are," said the boy, his face lighting up with pleasure at the unexpected sight of the girls. "Right this way, ladies. Say," he added, as they started down the steps together, "you're looking great, girls. It isn't every fellow who has the chance to escort four pippins at Palm Beach."
"Pippins!" repeated Grace emphatically, while the others giggled. "You know that's vulgar, Walter."
"Vulgar or not, it's the truth," said Walter cheerfully. "Isn't this some garden?" he went on.
The Royal Poinciana Hotel was set in a tropical paradise of gorgeous flowers and shrubs and trees, the beauty of which no one who has not seen it can imagine.
One tree in particular caught Nan's eye and she pointed it out eagerly.
"Look at that gorgeous thing," she cried. "What is it, Walter—a shrub or a tree or a flower, or a mixture of all of them?"