“We’ve got to be in New York to-morrow afternoon,” explained Aunt Edie. “We’ll have to start at crack of dawn, but don’t bother about breakfast for us, Mrs. Gildersleeve. We can get something at the hotel in the next big town. We have to rush—we’ve booked passage on the Crespic that sails on Saturday—and there’s rafts of things to do in New York. Jim has to see people. He’s going over for the Government, you know.”
She gazed at her Jim proudly. Jacqueline stood with Aunt Eunice’s arm about her (Aunt Eunice who, she knew, would rather she were Caroline!) and felt chilly and out of things.
“Am I going, too, Aunt Edie?” she questioned falteringly.
“Oh, yes, doodle-bug,” Aunt Edie unbent at last, in spite of Uncle Jimmie. “We can’t leave you behind—no knowing what you’d get into next. We’ll be trotting all over the Continent but we’ll find a school for you in Switzerland——”
“A strict one,” said Uncle Jimmie.
My, how grouchy he was! But he hadn’t had a chance yet to wash off the dust of two hundred miles swift motoring and nobody seemed to think at all about his comfort.
“But I don’t want to go away to-morrow,” said Jacqueline painfully. “I’ve got to see Carol again—I must see Carol.”
“I’m afraid Carol will have to wait,” Aunt Edie dismissed the subject lightly. “Can we have ten minutes grace before dinner, Mrs. Gildersleeve? Jim wants to brush himself, I know.”
That was all Caroline and her affairs meant to them, those grown folk who were settling things for Jacqueline. Aunt Edie rushed Uncle Jimmie off to the guest room. Cousin Penelope said something in a cold voice about having dinner served, if it weren’t entirely spoiled by now. Secretly Jacqueline hoped it was spoiled, since Cousin Penelope would have to eat it.
Aunt Eunice was the only one who understood or cared. She said: