“You’d better come out here, or I’ll use force,” cried Lucile’s voice from somewhere in the rear, and the orator fled precipitately.
CHAPTER VIII
ENTER JACK
It was the last day Lucile and Evelyn and Jessie would spend in Burleigh for some time. Since early morning they had been so busy they had scarcely found time to breathe, and it was not till five o’clock in the afternoon that Lucile slammed down the cover of her last trunk with a triumphant, “There, that’s done! Now, I wonder if I’ve thought of everything.”
Tired and happy, she flung herself upon the bed, a little meditative frown puckering her forehead, and began a mental checking up of all the hundred and one things she would need.
“I guess I have all the dresses I’ll want,” she ruminated. “Shoes and combs and brushes and ribbons and handkerchiefs—oh, I wonder if I put in my little flowered scarf; I mustn’t forget that——”
Then began a frantic searching through bureau drawers, during which the scarf failed to come to light. Finally she gave it up in despair and turned upon the two trunks so fierce a look that the only wonder is they didn’t fade then and there and vanish into thin air.
“You disgusting old things!” she cried, hotly. “I suppose you think it’s fun to go all through you again and take out all your horrid old trays and everything, just to make sure I put that scarf in. I suppose I’ll find it way down at the bottom, too.”