“What?” cried Agnes.
“You aren’t going—not in all this storm!” objected Ruth.
“I didn’t hear you invite us to supper,” returned Luke with a simulated injured air. “And you didn’t offer to telephone to Grantham and say I was all right.”
“Or to Con Murphy,” added Neale, with a serious face.
“Silly!” murmured Ruth. “Of course you boys will stay. Stay all night, if you like. We have plenty of room.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” agreed Neale, looking out of the window, down the panes of which little streams of rain were running. “What say, Luke?”
“I’m with you! It looks like a good imitation of the original flood outside.”
“You really would have to go around; you couldn’t climb the back fence in this storm. Yes, you’ll have to stay,” put in Agnes.
“Then we’ll have a jolly evening of it!” cried Hal. Perhaps he thought three girls to one youth was all out of proportion.
Indeed, now that they were all safe within doors there was no need to worry about the storm. The members of the picnic party congratulated themselves that they had left the lake and grove in time to escape the outburst of the elements.