“Well, you girls ought to pay us a tribute for willingly going to the torture chair to-night. Stiff collars and heavy cloth coats on a torrid night as this in the Canal Zone!”
“Nobody asked you to!” retorted Eleanor.
“Maybe not, but we knew what we would get if we appeared in the lists, with our friends here in their uniform, and the rest of us in our tropical togs,” returned Jack.
“Oh, then it is mere pride that drove you to the deed?” asked Polly.
“No, it was desperate fear!” exclaimed Ray. “What chance would we stand with a bevy of wonderful orchids and two dazzling hummingbirds—meaning Bill and Bob, of course,—if we looked like sparrows from the city streets?”
Every one laughed. “Orchids are too good to be forgotten,” added Polly; “every time I see an orchid hereafter I shall remember that, for once in my lifetime, I was compared to the rare and beautiful flower.”
“Rare in New York, perhaps, but anything but rare down here!” retorted Jack.
“Oh, pshaw! Why spoil such a lovely compliment with the truth,” remonstrated Mrs. Courtney.
The constant teasing and darts of wit between Jack and Ray on the one side and Polly and Eleanor on the other, had been one source of amusement and perpetual fun for the tourists in Mr. Dalken’s party, and now that Bill and Bob had joined the others on deck that night, the quick repartee seemed tossed back and forth like a tennis ball between clever players.
A man servant now came over to announce dinner, and then, for the first time, Polly realized that the officers who were to be invited to dinner had not appeared.