“Ah, that is broad flattery,” cried their hostess with a silvery laugh. “But oh so charming.”
“Do you not find it dull staying at an out-of-the-way place like this?” broke in Mrs. De Lancey Smythe, looking about her with a patronizing air. “I am quite sure I have never seen you at the Beach.”
The “Automobile Girls” exchanged lightning glances. Mrs. Smythe’s abrupt remark jarred upon them, and simultaneously it occurred to them that she was distinctly underbred.
Marian’s face flushed, and she bit her lip. “I think this quiet place must be enchanting,” she said almost defiantly. “I hate hotels.”
“Really, Marian,” said her mother coldly. “Your opinion has not been solicited.”
“They’re going to quarrel,” thought Barbara. “How disagreeable that woman is. She is so snippy, and calculating and deceitful. I rather like Marian, though.”
But their hostess averted any domestic altercation by saying sweetly. “I am indeed a stranger, here, but I came for rest and quiet, therefore I have little desire to frequent the Beach or its hotels.”
“Quite true,” responded Mrs. De Lancey Smythe, and hastily turning her attention to the imposing looking old woman with the gold headed cane she said, “You are German, I presume.”
“Why German?” replied the old lady, observing her questioner with a dangerous glitter in her small black eyes.
Mrs. De Lancey Smythe showed signs of confusion.