“Has your autogiro come yet?” she inquired.
“No, but it’ll be here to-morrow. Want to go up on a test flight with me, Linda?”
“Of course I do!” she replied eagerly. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re getting it, before you even graduated from college.”
“Now Linda, don’t rub it in,” replied the young man. Although he should have completed his course at Harvard the preceding June, there had been a condition in mathematics, which kept him from getting his degree. His father had wanted him to go to summer school, but with his usual lazy attitude towards life, Ralph had refused. He was just as well satisfied that he did have to return in the fall; it would be more fun to hang around college than to buckle down to his father’s business.
“I didn’t want to be mean,” apologized Linda. “Only you know you weren’t supposed to get a plane of your own till you graduated.”
She stopped talking; Kitty was taking a telegram from the maid, and glancing at Linda. What was it? For her? News of Amy—or a message from her father?
“This is for you, Linda,” said her hostess. “I do hope it isn’t bad news.”
“Maybe it’s something about Amy,” she said expectantly, and all eyes were on her as she slit open the envelope.
But as she read the message, a vivid blush spread over her face, and she felt as if the others about the table must know what it contained.
“Am returning to-night with Tom for my answer. Love. Claude.”