"What was the hall like?" Betty had demanded of Lois.
"Mercy! I don't remember," she said, "except that it had two big fireplaces and the most fascinating chandeliers made of deers' antlers."
Betty had been disgusted at this hazy description.
It was after two o'clock before they got back to the hotel, and they were both so sleepy that they could hardly thank Bob and Jim for their good time.
As the boys went back to their rooms, Jim said: "Bob, do you think the girls will ever forgive me for this afternoon?"
"Why, of course," Bob assured him. "They didn't mind being late. Polly would rather motor than dance any day."
"H'm!" Jim replied, slowly, "but it happens to be Lois that I'm worrying about."
"Well, you needn't," Bob answered, laughing. "When I was dancing with her to-night, I asked her if she didn't like you better than she used to, and she said: 'Oh, lots, Bobby; I think he's a duck.'"