“It’s time to get our gloves on!” was all the reply her jest drew from Lily. “We’re slowing up already.”
Five minutes later the girls were seated in John Hadley’s Ford, driving through the city to the suburbs where his mother’s home was located. Marjorie as usual was in high spirits, but again John experienced that intangible sensation of jealousy because her happiness seemed to be caused rather by her bright expectations than by his mere presence. While she was asking him about the new car, he suddenly sighed audibly; somehow he felt that as long as the Girl Scouts continued to plan these novel undertakings, he would never hold anything but second place in Marjorie’s interest. The girl noticed the sigh, and asked him whether she were boring him.
“Of course not!” he declared emphatically. “As if you ever could—”
“Then what is it?” she asked sympathetically.
“Only that I wish that I were a Girl Scout—to merit more of your attention.”
Marjorie laughed merrily; she did not believe that the young man was in earnest.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she persisted. “Has the car come yet?”
“Yes; it’s in our garage.”
“Oh, goody! Drive fast then, John. It seems as if I can’t wait a minute to see it!”
Obedient to her command he put on all his power, in defiance of the speed laws in the city, and reached home in an incredibly short time for a Ford. Marjorie waited only to pay her respects to Mrs. Hadley; then without even removing her hat, she followed John’s machine out to the garage. There she found the new possession, shining and bright and handsome with its fresh paint and polished metal.