"Mrs. Carter says that so long as our chaperon is leaving tomorrow, we must come over and stay at her house, Linda," Dot said. "You see, Mrs. Carter," she continued, turning to the older woman, "we're not so strict in the North about chaperons as you are here—but Linda's aunt would like to be. It really worries her to have her niece batting around alone in an airplane."
Horribly embarrassed, her eyelids fluttering so that she could not see anybody distinctly, Linda tried to summon words to decline the invitation. It would be impossible for her to accept.
"We'd love to have you, girls," Mrs. Carter assured them. "For as long as you can stay.... How I would enjoy seeing your mother, Dorothy! You must tell me all about her."
"I'm awfully sorry," stammered Linda, still avoiding Jackson's eyes, "but I'm afraid we can't possibly make it. The fact is, I am expecting to get my autogiro tomorrow, and that will take us away from Jacksonville."
"Bring it out to our place!" urged the young man, with the deepest pleading in his tone. It was the first time that he had spoken, and everybody was surprised at his eagerness. That is, everybody except Linda—who had heard the same pleading over the telephone a few hours before.
His mother smiled approvingly. She was glad to see that her son was interested in Dorothy Crowley, for the Crowleys were wealthy people, of unquestionable social position.
But, had she known it, Jackson did not even see Dot. He was lost in admiration of Linda—or Ann, as he thought of her. In her pale chiffon dress she looked absolutely ravishing. How could he ever have doubted that she was of good family?
"No, thank you ever so much, but we can't possibly," Linda repeated. "We—or rather I—have work to do. Of course if Dot wants to go——"
She looked at the other girl fearfully. How she would hate to lose her!
Dot's reply, however, was reassuring.