“No. My own idea is that the sensible stuff is just a pose to keep the girls away. She’s not cranky, I know that. I met her at the Community Club last week,” continued Cara, who was now donning her white sport coat, preparing for a race in town. “At any rate, Moma, I’m sure it will do me a lot of good to know her,” she just nipped a make-believe kiss on her mother’s cheek. “She might inspire me with a little sense.”
“Oh, you’re not so bad, my dear,” replied the proud mother, surveying Cara affectionately. “But I am really anxious to meet the paragon.”
A half-hour later Cara was being surrounded at the post office; the girls who were shortly to be her guests formed the circle. She had just told them that Barbara was coming.
“How ever did you get her?” demanded Louise.
“As easy as easy,” teased Cara. “All I did was just give the operator the number and Barbara answered.” Cara was plainly proud of the conquest.
“And she said she’d come? Right off?” asked Esther in uncovered surprise.
“Said she would love to, not what you might call exactly ‘right off’ but after her father had urged her to. He calls her Babs and they seem to be great chums,” Cara finished, trying to break away from the party and reach her mail-box.
“Oh, they are,” agreed Louise. “That’s just what makes her so different. She’s always chumming with her father. Isn’t that queer?”
“Not so very,” said Cara dryly. “Dad and I are pretty good chums. But I’ve got to rush or I won’t be at the front door to greet you when you arrive,” and she did break away this time.
“Cara!” called Lida Bent, a new girl in Sea Cosset, “shall we really bring our suit-cases?”