"I do, grandpa," was her smiling rejoinder, "so make yourself perfectly easy on that score."
"I hope our excursion is not to be interfered with, cousin?" Donald said inquiringly: for arrangements had been made for a long drive that afternoon, taking in several of the neighboring sea-side resorts, and as his three lady cousins had promised to be of the party, he was loath to give it up.
"No," she said, "Aunt Adelaide and Aunt Louise will doubtless be well pleased to be left alone together for a few hours, after a separation of several years."
"Besides, both my aunt and cousin will need a long nap to refresh them after the fatigue of their journey," remarked Edward.
The young people exchanged congratulatory glances. They were all eager for the drive. It was just the day for it, they had all decided—the roads in excellent condition after the late rain, a delicious sea-breeze blowing, and light fleecy clouds tempering the heat of the July sun.
They set off directly after an early dinner—all the Dinsmores and Travillas, Mr. Allison and his children and Mr. Keith—in two covered carriages, and well provided with waterproofs for protection against a possible shower.
They were a pleasant, congenial party, the older people cheerful and companionable, the children full of life and spirits.
They had visited Seagirt, Spring Lake and Asbury Park, and were passing through Ocean Beach, when Edward, catching sight of a young couple sauntering leisurely along on the sidewalk, uttered an exclamation, "Why, there's Charlie Perrine!" then calling to the driver to stop, he sprang out and hurried toward them.
"His college chum—and how glad they are to meet," Violet said as the two were seen shaking hands in the most cordial manner.
Then Perrine introduced Edward to his companion, and the lad's sisters noticed that his face lighted up with pleased surprise as he grasped her hand.