“Do help her, Penelope. She’s tired out, poor little mite,” said Aunt Eunice.
Cousin Penelope took the bag in her brisk way, and opened it. She made a queer little face, as she saw the very grown-up small vials and powder-puff inside, but she said nothing. By instinct, probably, she opened the little purse and took out the trunk-check and gave it to her chauffeur, who came up at that moment with the hand-luggage.
“Tell them to send the trunk up by express,” she bade him. “Jump in, Jacqueline. We’ll be away from this wretched hot station in a couple of minutes now.”
Caroline stepped gingerly into the limousine. With its cool gray upholstery, its little side-pockets full of bottles and notebooks, its hanging crystal vase of marguerites, it seemed to her a little palace on wheels. She sank upon the cushions with a sigh of relief.
“You are tired, you poor little thing,” said Aunt Eunice. “Now just rest. We won’t trouble you with questions about the journey. You’re here safe—that’s all that really matters.”
Caroline nestled back in her seat and hugged Mildred to her. The train that had sheltered her had pulled out of the station. Jacqueline, her dear and dangerous friend of twenty-four hours, was gone. She had nothing left but Mildred.
Cousin Penelope stepped into the car in a regal manner. Her dress was of soft shimmery white, and she wore a sweater coat of mauve silk, and a white hat with a mauve silk scarf about the crown. A faint scent of violets breathed from her when she moved. Why, she wasn’t old like Aunt Eunice, as Jacqueline had said she would be. She was young—not so young, perhaps, as Caroline’s beloved Sunday School teacher, but still young, and such a pretty lady!
Frank, the well-trained chauffeur, came at a military gait across the sunny station platform. He closed the door of the car, then stepped to his seat. A moment later the great car glided—oh, so smoothly and softly!—away from the platform and under the elms of the station park into a wide street where two-story brick buildings cast long shadows in the late afternoon light.
“Where are we going?” Caroline wondered. “Oh, I hope it’s ever so far. If I could only sit here with Mildred forever and ever.”
Cousin Penelope pulled up a window.