“Yes, sustain me by making me laugh and running us all into the ditch. I know just how sustaining you can be. Never mind. I’ll forgive your slighting remarks about me, and give you the vacant place on the front seat. Now, good people,” she put on the business-like expression of an auctioneer, “who bids for the back seat of the Briggs’ vehicle?”
“Every one is welcome to it except the Emerson twins,” put in Emma. “I dislike having them sit behind me. I prefer to sit behind them, but as I can’t sit on the front seat and the back seat at the same time, it would really be better to put the twins in the Thayer chariot.”
“We are going to ride with J. Elfreda,” was Sara Emerson’s defiant ultimatum.
“I’ll sit between you and preserve the peace,” volunteered Miriam.
“And me at the same time,” added Emma hopefully. “Twins, do your worst. Sit where you choose. Miriam will protect me.” Emma tottered toward Miriam, looking abjectly grateful and supremely ludicrous.
“That leaves Grace, Anne and Ruth to me,” declared Arline. “Now let’s hurry, girls. The sooner we reach Picnic Hollow the longer we’ll have to stay.”
The ride to Picnic Hollow was not a long one, but the picnickers were highly alive to every moment of it.
“We’ll have to turn in here and take the road to the left,” called Elfreda over her shoulder. They had reached a point where a narrower road crossed the highway and wound around the hills, sloping gradually at the lowest point, into the very heart of the little valley, which looked particularly cool and inviting.
“All right,” caroled Arline. “Lead the way and we’ll follow.”
Slowly the two cars, propelled by two extremely careful chauffeurs, wound their way down the country road which, according to Elfreda, was just wide enough and no wider.