CHAPTER XXV
THE THUNDERBOLT
Breakfast was over, and the girls had hidden their pretty evening coats under long linen dusters. For, as Mrs. Payton had explained, they would have no time to change for the evening, and they must look their best—to which, needless to say, the girls agreed with enthusiasm.
“And we can wear those new motor bonnets we bought in England the day before we sailed,” Lucile rejoiced. So the insistent honk of the motor horn found them all cloaked and bonneted, and ready for the day’s fun.
“Come on,” cried Lucile, pulling Jessie away from the mirror by main force; “you look wonderful, Jessie,” and down the stairs they ran and out onto the veranda, where a good many of the guests had assembled to see them off.
The boys took immediate possession of them and hustled them, willy-nilly, into the car, despite their vehement protestations that they must say “good-byes” to “lots of people.”
“They’ll be here when you get back,” Phil argued, “and mother’s already been waiting half an hour. Time’s up!” And off they went with great noise and laughter and waving of hands to the group on the porch.
“Oh, what a perfect day!” cried Lucile, settling back between Evelyn and Jessie in the tonneau. As usual, Mr. Payton was in front with the driver, the three girls were squeezed tightly in the rear seat, Mrs. Payton occupied one of the collapsible seats, and Jack and Phil—well, they were anywhere they could get.
Jack had earlier proposed the use of his two-seater for Lucile and himself, but Mr. Payton had demurred, smilingly preferring “safety-first.” 176