“I vote we adjourn to the porch,” said Ruth, “until we decide where we are going this morning. Come on, auntie, dear. There may be a rocking chair adventure waiting for you on that shady piazza. I saw a white haired gentleman giving you many glances of admiration, this morning, around the corner of his newspaper. Did you notice it, girls?”
“I did,” replied Grace, somewhat hesitatingly, for she was just a little fearful about entering into these teasing humors with Ruth.
“Don’t be silly, Ruth,” said Miss Sallie. But she glanced quickly over her shoulder, nevertheless, as she led the little procession from the dining room, her lavender muslin draperies floating in the breeze. She stopped in the office and bought a newspaper, then proceeded to the shady piazza, where she seated herself in a rocking chair and unfolded the paper.
The girls leaned over the railing and looked down into the street, while Ruth expounded her views on their morning’s ride.
“Suppose we have a lunch fixed up,” she was saying, “and spend the morning at Sleepy Hollow? It’s lovelier than anything you ever imagined, just what Washington Irving says of it, a place to dream in and see visions.”
A charming tenor voice floated out from an upper window, singing a song in some foreign language.
The girls looked at each other and laughed.
“He did hear us, and he is an opera singer,” whispered Grace.
“I knew it,” came Miss Sallie’s voice from the depths of the paper.
“Knew what?” demanded the four girls somewhat guiltily, as the singing continued.