After walking a mile or so, the girls found themselves in the midst of a clearing in the woods. Here some carriages and horses were drawn up, and a gay party of girls, one or two round-faced and stout matrons, and a few young men were standing together.
The girls and the young men raised a noisy shout when they saw Flora, and rushed to meet her.
"How good of you to come, Florrie! We were half afraid you couldn't manage it."
"Oh, I promised last night," said Flora hastily. "I thought George told you. How do you do, George? Maisie, let me introduce to you my great friend, Miss Wilton. Miss Wilton, Miss Burroughs." Then Flora tripped on in front by the side of the clumsy-looking George, and Ermie found herself standing face to face with Miss Burroughs. She was a loud-voiced, vulgar-looking girl.
"Come along," she said almost roughly to her little companion. "I wonder what Flora meant by walking off in that fashion. Well, I don't suppose you want me to chaperon you, Miss—I forget your name."
"Wilton," said Ermengarde, in a haughty voice.
"Miss Wilton! I don't know why Flora left you on my hands in that style. She just introduced us and rushed off—just like Florrie, so independent and selfish. I never knew anyone so selfish. But I have my own fun to see after. Oh, there's Florrie in the distance, I'll shout after her. Flora! Florrie! Flora St. Leger!"
Flora turned.
"What is it, Maisie?" she screamed back.
"What am I to do with Miss Wilton? I'm going for a long walk with the Slater girls. She can't possibly go so far, and besides, we don't want children."