“You—you——” spluttered Bess, drawing back her hand in which nestled a chocolate. And then her desire to throw it was overcome by her appetite for the confection.
“Ye Olde Spinning Wheel,” repeated Cora. “That sounds most enticing. We’ll go there, if only to keep you two from bickering. What’s gotten in you sisters to-day, I never saw you so on each other’s nerves.”
“It’s the weather,” returned Belle.
“Let us hope so. Well, if you’ve admired the view enough we’ll go on.”
They had come to a pause at the crest of a shaded hill, and down below them lay the village in which the three girls lived. Cheerful Chelton it had been designated, and cheerful it was.
Cora, who had not stopped the engine, slipped the clutch in after shifting the gear and the car moved down the slope, gradually cutting off the view of the town.
“What about the boys?” asked Bess, apropos of nothing in particular.
“What boys?” demanded Cora.
“Ours, of course,” and Bess looked surprised that any others should have been thought of. “I mean your brother Jack, Walter Pennington and Paul Hastings. Didn’t you say Paul was thinking of going to camp with our boys, if they took the little bungalow near ours at Camp Surprise?”
“Yes, Paul is coming,” Cora said.