Louise was pouring the lemonade and had just served Aunt Carrie. The cup for Peg was filled and being extended when Grace said:
“We saw company at your house as we came along, Peg.”
“Company?” She accepted Louise’s cup.
“Yes. One of the girls from the hotel. She said she was Leonore Fairbanks.”
“Leonore Fairbanks? Where was she?” Peg’s voice was a signal of alarm.
“Oh, Shag was on guard,” put in Cleo. “She was around by the side porch, but no danger of anyone making herself too much at home with Shag doing picket duty.”
Miss Ramsdell lay down her piece of cake. Peg did likewise with her lemonade. Each had exchanged code glances.
“I’ll run home and see if—if everything is all right,” said the girl, anxiously. “Auntie, you can follow or stay, I’ll be all right. Sorry to leave the picnic,” she apologized. And the remarks that followed her did not all reach her ears, for as quickly as even she, the lightfoot, could do it, she was on Whirlwind and galloping away down the hills, leaving after her the chagrined Bobbies.
“Why did you tell her?” whispered Helen to Grace.
“Because she should know,” replied the latter, emphatically.