"They seem quite interested in each other," remarked Russ, in a low tone.
"Yes, they have something in common," added Alice—"a love of good clothes."
"I like nice things myself," put in Ruth, straightening a bow she wore. "You shouldn't say such things, Alice."
"Oh, but you like them in the right way—so do I, for that matter. But I don't go to the extremes they do, and neither do you."
"Hush! They'll hear you," cautioned her sister, for Alice was very impulsive at times.
Indeed the dudish actor and Miss Pennington were glancing rather curiously in the direction of our friends. Then Miss Dixon came along, whispering something that caused the other to laugh.
"Fawncy that now! Only fawncy!" exclaimed Mr. Towne, in his exaggerated English drawl. "That's a good joke—on them!"
"I wonder if they mean us?" spoke Paul. "If I thought so I'd go ask them what the joke was, so we could laugh, too."
"Oh, don't," begged Ruth, who disliked "scenes."
The mirth of Miss Dixon and Miss Pennington seemed to increase rather than diminish, and Mr. Towne was now fairly roaring with merriment. He laughed so hard, in fact, that he coughed, and leaned back against the rail for support.