“We’re here–because we’re here!” exclaimed Walter. “That’s more than can be said for Jack and Ed.”
“Are they in sight?” asked Cora, looking down the long straight road–the main street of Fairport–by which they had entered the town.
“Not yet,” answered Bess. “Oh, do let’s get into the hotel!” she exclaimed. “A crowd is collecting, and I do so want a drink of cold water.”
“Hot tea for me,” spoke Belle. “Hot tea with a slice of lemon in it.”
“Since Belle went to that Russian tea-fest last winter she always takes lemon in her tea,” explained her sister. “Ugh! I can’t bear it!” Bess was nothing if not certain in her likes and dislikes.
“It’s really the only way to drink tea, my dear,” said Belle, with an affected society drawl. “It’s so–so mussy with cream and sugar in it,” and she spread out her hands in æsthetic horror–or something to simulate that.
“I think I shall be satisfied with just plain tea,” voiced Cora, as she took another look down the road for her brother. “Come on, girls–and boys!” she added.
A little throng was beginning to gather in front of the hotel, somewhat blocking the sidewalk, for the sight of the cars drawn up in front of the hostel and perhaps the sight of the four–well, it might as well be said–pretty motor girls, had attracted attention.
“Shoo–shoo–chickens!” exclaimed Mrs. Fordam with a laugh as she brought up back of the girls. “Let’s get in and freshen up for supper.”
“Dinner!” cried Walter. “It’s not allowed to say supper on this tour. Dinner; isn’t it, Cora?”