“It would be lovely,” sighed Daisy, who was a little weary from the trip.
Supper that evening was to be out of doors, in a charming little summer house overrun with rambler roses. The girls sat down on the rustic benches with deep sighs of content; they were glad to be still for a while, glad to be able to drop their sense of responsibility for the time being, and to know that they could enjoy this evening alone. It was Ethel who voiced the sentiment of the crowd.
“The party with the boys will be lovely tomorrow evening,” she said, “but isn’t it nice now just to be alone!”
“It certainly is,” agreed Marjorie. “And I have such a ferocious appetite, Mae; I’m afraid I’m going to eat you out of house and home.”
“No fear of that,” returned her hostess. “Now girls, somebody has got to tell me all about your trip—I want every single detail!”
“Oh, it’s been terribly uneventful,” complained Alice. “Except for the red car, with the two good-looking young men, it’s been too monotonous.”
“What two young men?” asked Mae.
“Oh, nobody special,” answered Lily, lightly. “Of course Flos and Daisy do think they’re pretty nice—” Then she went into detail about the story, insignificant as it was.
“Do you really think,” inquired Mae, after Lily had finished, “that you are going to earn those cars at the end of the trip?”
“We’re certain of it,” said Marjorie, with the same assurance she had displayed all along.