“Steady, there. You certainly have strong-arm methods.” Leslie came out of the car with a bounce, due to Jerry’s forceful assistance.
“Why, Leslie!” Marjorie’s brown eyes were wide with pleasant astonishment. “You, too! How splendid. I had just finished reading your letter when Jerry saw the taxi turning in at our gate.”
“Gaylord went, and I came. Wait a minute. This taxi man thinks he’s been held up here for an hour.” Leslie paid the fidgeting driver, who had already placed the travelers’ luggage on the drive.
Jerry picked up two of the bags. “More of my strong-arm methods,” she observed.
“I’ll take Vera’s, and mine,” Leslie reached for them.
“Since they seem to love work, why should we interfere?” Leila remarked innocently.
“Why, indeed,” Marjorie gaily agreed.
She and Leila led the way to the house, arms about each other’s waists, talking animatedly as they walked.
“Welcome, Travelers,” she called out as they entered the large square living room. She turned, arms outspread, with a pretty gesture of hospitality. “What does this room remind you of?” she turned to Vera and Leila. She burst into a merry little laugh as a big, gray and white Angora cat sat up, yawning widely, in a deep-cushioned chair. “You old fluffy give-away!” she exclaimed.
“Castle Dean!” both girls cried in concert. “Ruffle!”