Daisy, however, took a different view of the situation.
“Florence is mistaken, Alice,” she said, kindly. “It doesn’t make me feel badly to have you so interested; instead it gives me more hope. Before, when I never told anybody about it, I thought I’d go crazy—but now Alice’s enthusiasm makes me feel as if Olive really must be alive, and maybe everything will come out all right in the end.”
Alice flashed Daisy a grateful look; but before anything further could be said, the waiter appeared with their sandwiches and iced-drinks, and the girls gave all their attention to them.
“This lime-ade is wonderful, Lil,” observed Doris, appreciatively, as she slowly sipped the dainty beverage. “Let’s take as long as we can here—it’s so delightfully cool.”
On this hot July day it would have been hard to find any other spot in the city so pleasant. The big, airy dining-room, with all its windows wide open, was artificially cooled by electric-fans and a cool-air system. The pale green curtains and green shaded lamps, the glistening white linen, and the fresh flowers on each table heightened this effect. The girls thought of the stuffy train, and agreed with Doris that it would be nice to stay here as long as possible.
“And yet the journey hasn’t seemed a bit long, or tiresome,” said Marjorie. “I’ve really enjoyed it a lot.”
“Well, you see you and Alice are blessed with beaux,” teased Mae. “Those Brooks youths certainly are devoted.”
Marjorie and Alice both laughed.
“You better say Brooks children,” corrected Alice. “They do both wear long trousers, but I declare Walter’s voice hasn’t changed yet!”
“Well, they’re better than the old bachelor who was talking to Ethel last night,” said Marjorie. “I honestly pitied you, Ethel!”