“I hope, whatever it is, that I’ll be in it,” groaned Tavia.
“I am sure you will be, or Aunt Winnie wouldn’t have invited you here to her home at just this time,” declared Dorothy.
They were walking down the shady road toward the railroad station “killing time,” before the family conference which had been called for ten o’clock.
Nat and Ned White, Dorothy’s cousins, had gone off in their auto, the Fire Bird, on an errand, and the girls had an idea they might come home by this route, and so pick them up.
“Hush!” cried Tavia, suddenly. “Methinks I hear footsteps approaching on horseback.”
“That’s no horse you hear,” Dorothy said. “It is somebody walking on the bridge over the brook.”
There was a turn in the road just ahead and the girls could not see the bridge. But in a moment they could descry the figure of a man striding toward them.
“This must have been what you were he-heing for,” whispered Dorothy.
“How romantic!” was Tavia’s utterance.
“What is romantic about a man coming up from the station?”