The more energetic members of the party spent the early part of the morning on the tennis courts, practicing with their new partners. Ruth put on her bathing suit early to try a little rescue work, and Frances went with her to the lake. But Marjorie was content to lie in the hammock with a magazine until twelve o’clock.
With the exception of Ruth and Frances and two or three of the boys, all of the young people assembled on the porch about half-past twelve, clad in their bathing suits and raincoats. Harold was standing beside his car, holding the door open.
“And might I have the honor to drive our brave heroines to the lake?” he asked, with a deep bow.
Marjorie hesitated a moment, and Doris answered for her.
“Yes, that’s a good idea, Harold,” she said. “These girls need all the rest they can get. Jump in, Marj—and Frieda!”
The girls laughingly obeyed, and Harold followed them. Before the rest of the party had even left the steps, the Ford had reached the gate.
“How far is it to the lake?” asked Marjorie.
“About ten minutes’ walk I should judge,” replied the boy. “I guess we can make it in two.”
“Oh, Mr. Mason!” said Frieda, who had been carefully watching the young man’s manipulation of the car, “could I possibly drive? I always wanted to, and never had a chance to learn.”
Harold’s eyes brightened; fate seemed almost to be playing into his hands.