“‘The Automobile Girls,’ including Miss Sallie, will kindly stay on deck until they are summoned,” called Mrs. Post, sweeping on ahead, followed by her other guests.
Miss Sallie and the girls waited in some excitement. The sun was shining gayly on the deck of the little ship, which sailed through the water like a white bird. All the flags were flying in Barbara’s honor, as the governor explained, when she came on board.
Suddenly Hugh’s smiling face appeared at the open door. “Come in, now,” he requested.
Miss Sallie and the girls marched into the long salon dining-room, while the band played “Liberty Bell.”
In the center of the luncheon table, raised on a moss-covered stand, was a miniature automobile. In it sat five dolls wearing automobile veils of different colors and long dust coats. Two of the dolls were blondes, the other two were brunettes. But the stateliest and handsomest doll of the lot had soft, white hair and reclined against a violet cushion. A pale blue flag flew over the car. It bore the inscription: “The Automobile Girls—Long May They Flourish!”
At either end of the table stood Hugh’s and Ruth’s silver cups, won at the tennis tournament.
As Miss Sallie and the four girls took their places, Hugh raised one cup, his mother the other. “We will drink from these loving cups,” he said, “to the health of our guests of honor, ‘The Automobile Girls.’” He then passed the cups, filled with a fruit punch, around the table.
At the close of the luncheon, Hugh again rose to his feet.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “I am going to make a speech.”
“Don’t do it, Hugh,” laughed Ralph.