CHAPTER XVII
"What are you two girls whispering about?" asked Wright, coming up behind us on the glassed-in porch of the Country Club.
"It is none of your affairs," responded Mercedes with dignity, "but as you are so rude as to ask, I will tell you that the last affair of the season is to be held at the home of Consuelo Mendez—a ball—next week. And I have asked Mavis if she will let me steal you for the evening—provided you have no objection. It will be amusing, I think, and you will meet many pretty girls."
"As to that, I would not have to leave Guayabal," said Wright politely, "but I am honored that you implore my escort—"
"Implore!" said Mercedes with scorn.
"Be careful," I warned. "She'll withdraw her invitation. And I'm sure you'd have a wonderful time. I shan't go, of course, although Senora Mendez has been gracious enough to include me in the invitation. And Bill declares he is too old for such festivities. But I have told Mercedes she may have you—"
"And welcome?" suggested Wright, tragically.
"I shall stop on at 'The Palms' till then," said Mercedes—"Mavis has asked me. And if you will come into Havana with me the day of the dance, my Mother will be very glad to have you stay with us over that night. For it will be a late party, of course—too late for you to return to Guayabal."
"Bully," said Wright with enthusiasm, "I'd love it. What does one wear?" he asked anxiously.
"Low neck and short sleeves," answered Bill, appearing from the locker rooms.