It was cold, but the girls were warmly wrapped up and didn’t a bit mind the clear, frosty air, though in an open car. “Didn’t bring the limousine,” Mr. Kenerley rattled on. “Can’t abide to be shut up in a stuffy glass house, and then, you know, people who ride in glass houses mustn’t throw stones.”
“But, you see, we girls couldn’t hit anything if we did throw a stone,” said Patty. “At least, women have that reputation.”
“That’s so,” agreed Jim. “Can’t even hit the side of a barn, so they say. But I expect you girls that grow up with athletics and basket ball, and such things, put the old proverbs to rout.”
“How’s Daisy?” asked Mona. “Same as ever?”
“Yep; same as ever. Daisy’s all right, you know, if things go her way. But if not——”
“If not, she makes them go her way,” said Mona, and Jim laughed and agreed, “She sure does!”
At last they reached the house, which Jim informed them they had dubbed the Kenerley Kennel, for no particular reason, except that it sounded well.
“But you have dogs?” asked Patty, as they rolled up the driveway.
“Yes, but we didn’t exactly name it after them. Hello, here are the girls!”
Adèle and Daisy appeared in the doorway, and greeted the visitors in truly feminine fashion, which included much laughter and exclamation.