“Pickwick Papers!” voiced Bess. “There! I know something even if I am—plump. But, girls, I have lost five pounds in the last month.”
“Not so’s you’d notice it,” murmured Belle.
“Cease! Cease and have done!” admonished Cora. “How does that new one go—two slow and one quick to the side and then——”
“Not slow at all!” interrupted Bess. “You’ve got to follow through or you’ll slice the ball and——”
“What in the world are you talking about?” demanded Cora, her eyes opening wide. “Slice the ball? What’s that in? The fox trot?”
“I was speaking of golf,” murmured Bess.
“She’s taken it up to—reduce,” whispered Belle.
“I thought you meant that new three-step we tried the other night,” came from Cora.
“It’s too warm even to talk about dancing,” declared Belle. “Really we must think of getting away sooner. Do you think we could get that bungalow at Camp Surprise earlier than we had planned to take it, Cora?”
“I don’t know. Mother made all the arrangements. But I can find out. Do you really think you’d like to go sooner?”