“It’s a wonder she wouldn’t give us a chance to decide for ourselves, instead of introducing expert testimony on her own account,” laughed Cora. “Come, Bess, out with them!”
“Certainly,” agreed the plump girl, with easy grace. “I intended to share them all along, but it was so warm——”
“Don’t say warm again!” drawled her sister. “Your nose is as shiny now as a tin teakettle.”
“Belle Robinson! It is not!”
Instantly Bess had her little mirror and vanity box in use, and a quick dab on her rather up-turned nose did away with the condition complained of, or at least alleged, by her sister.
“There, does that satisfy you?” she asked, turning about for inspection, as Cora swung the big car around a turn in the road.
“Oh, I’m easily satisfied,” Belle murmured. “What a perfectly gorgeous view!” she cried, as she looked down from a height toward a village that lay nestled in a green valley, girt around by a winding, silvery river, glimpses of which could be had now and then between the trees that lined the shores.
“Yes, it is a good view,” agreed Cora, stopping the car. “Cheerful Chelton looks even more amiable and love-like than usual to-day. It’s cooler up here, too. Now pass over those chocolates, Bess.”
“And watch her get more and more—well, I’ll say plump—before your eyes, like that fat boy Scott tells about,” laughed Belle.
“It wasn’t Scott’s fat boy. He was in Dickens,” corrected Cora. “Nicholas Nickleby, I think.”