“He thinks we’re going to talk for another couple of hours,” Jessie interpreted. 18
“No, we’d better do our talking to-morrow. Tell you what we’ll do—I have—an idea,” cried Lucile.
“Bright child, tell us about it,” said Evelyn.
“Suppose we call a special camp-fire meeting to-morrow morning to talk over plans for Miss Howland’s—I mean Mrs. Wescott’s reception.”
“Fine—but who will let them know?”
“Come over to-night, both of you, and we can ’phone them from here.”
“All right, we’ll do that, Lucy,” agreed Evelyn. “We’ll see you about eight o’clock, then.”
“Better run, Lucy,” warned Jessie, with a backward glance over her shoulder. “Phil will beat you in if you don’t hurry—he’s coming full tilt.”
“All right, I’ll see you to-night,” said Lucile, as she made a dash for the house.
She stopped for a moment on the doorstep to flash them a merry glance and cry triumphantly, “I won!”