They were seated on the porch of Clover Cottage, having just had a supper which the young ladies prepared, and which every one, including Mrs. Robinson, declared was as good and tasty a supper as one could desire. True, there was some difficulty about its preparation, as there was no gas in the cottage, and the boys had considerable trouble in procuring the sort of oil that is used in the sort of stove to be found in the furnished house at the seashore. But all this, and much more, was finally accomplished, and the meal that evolved from the process did credit to the girls from Chelton.
“I’m with Cora for the motion pictures,” Ed declared, as he swung himself out of the hammock, and onto his feet. “And I’m also in for a quiet little spin thereto.”
“We can all pile in the Whirlwind,” said Jack, “and with Walter at the wheel we will all have a jolly good time and nothing to do but admire the—curve of Wallie’s ears.”
“Well, I guess not,” objected Walter. “I went for the kerosene. It’s up to somebody else to do the chores this time.”
It was then decided that Ed should drive the car, and presently the girls reappeared on the porch, each dressed in her regulation summer garb: Bess in her dainty muslin princess, Belle in her faultless linen outing suit, and Cora in her pretty blue sailor gown. The change from motor attire was welcome, and the boys did not fail to pass their compliments, and other remarks upon it. This last included the criticism that Bess might do well to add another bow behind her other ear, that Belle break off at least two yards of her single pond lily stem, and that Cora might shift her tie two or three degrees farther north; otherwise, the boys declared, the girls looked “very sweet.”
“We must put the steerage chairs in the tonneau,” said Cora. “Belle, we vote that you and Walter occupy these state chairs, as you will take up the least room.”
“Go slow,” said Jack, with better intent than grammar. “We want to see—the pretty girls.”
“And we want to see—everything,” added Bess. “Isn’t this perfectly delightful? I am sure we will have wonderful complexions after our summer here. Why, the spray fairly washes one’s face.”
“Nice of the spray,” declared Walter, “and I fancy it will be very useful to the bungaloafers, for we have to carry the house water from the ocean. I can see myself washing in the atmosphere.”
Along the broad, ocean driveway the lights were already blinking and sputtering in their regular nightly glow. Music could be heard from many and various attractions, and altogether the scene was as merry as the motor maids might have desired.