“Oh, hurry up, slowpoke,” giggled Vera, taking hold of Leila’s arm to forward her progress from the car to the drive. “Robin likes my disposition. She hasn’t found me out yet. She and I are going to take the car to the garage. Anybody else want to go, too?”
“Not I. I know when I’m unwelcome.” Leila tossed her head with a haughty air.
Katherine and Marjorie, far from resenting the sudden order to “get out and walk” were already strolling slowly up the drive. Leila turned her back on Vera with a great show of scorn and overtook the strolling two. They found Miss Remson on the veranda, seated in a large willow rocker which made her appear unusually small.
“Back at last,” she greeted in her lively tones. “What cheer? Was it dinner at Baretti’s or tea at Miss Hamilton’s?”
“Miss Susanna had a late tea on purpose for us,” Marjorie replied. “Life has been one glorious succession of eats today since I got off the train at Hamilton station.” This with an accompanying sigh of utter well-being.
“Don’t forget the spread,” the little manager reminded. “It’s ready.”
“So are we,” declared Katherine brightly, “or we shall be when Vera and Robin come from the garage.”
“No true Hamiltonite could resist a ten o’clock spread even if she had been lunched, toasted and tea’d,” Marjorie cheerily asserted.
“No one could resist Ellen’s cream cake, either. I know that,” supplemented Kathie.
Vera and Robin presently returned and the quintette accompanied Miss Remson into the dining room where the “ten o’clock spread” awaited them. There was not only Ellen’s delicious cream cake but dainty sandwiches and fruit salad as well. Though none of them were actually hungry, a spread was a spread on any occasion and therefore not to be passed by.