The young man frowned as he put his foot on the self-starter.
"I did think of it, Linda. Thought how pleased you'd be if I could take you for a ride in the Moth. But as usual—Bess Hulbert got it first!"
"You mean she has the Club's plane again?" demanded his companion. "She only brought it back yesterday."
"I know. It's positively sickening the way she grabs it. Yet her brother is a decent sort. If it weren't for him, I'd have raised a row before this."
"Where is she going now?"
"Canada, I believe. On the trail of some job. Well, I hope she gets it. Then maybe we won't see her for a while."
"Or the Moth either, I fear!" added Linda. Then noticing that Ralph was extremely irritated about the whole thing, she resolved to make him forget it and have a good time.
The dance was an enjoyable affair—all the more so because it lacked the formality of the Country Club functions. Only the members were present, and the crude roughness of the club-house, with its plastered walls, its long wooden window-seats, its huge fireplace, made everybody feel free and easy. Moreover Linda and Louise found themselves honored guests; everybody made a fuss over them, as if already they had proved themselves heroines. The men were insistent that neither of them dance more than once about the room without an interruption, and the other girls applauded their popularity without the slightest trace of envy. By the end of the evening even Ralph was supremely happy.
The functions that followed during the next three days—the luncheon of Dot's, the dinner-party of Louise's mother, the out-door picnic around a camp fire—were increasingly enjoyable, so that when Sunday came at last, Linda and Louise stepped into the Arrow with a feeling of regret that they must say good-by to all these good friends until Christmas.