“I was just listening to the news about the dynamiting,” she remarked as Mr. Parker and his daughter came in from the kitchen. Turning her head, she stared at the girl’s bedraggled hair and wet clothing. “Why, Penny Parker!”
“I guess I am a little bit moist,” Penny admitted with a grin. Sitting down on the davenport, she began to strip off her shoes and stockings.
“Not here!” Mrs. Weems protested. “Take a hot shower while I fix you a warm drink. Oh, I knew you shouldn’t have gone sailing at night.”
“But Mrs. Weems—”
“Scoot right up to the bathroom and get out of those wet clothes!” the housekeeper interrupted. “You’ll be lucky if you don’t come down with your death o’ cold.”
Carrying a shoe in either hand, Penny wearily climbed the stairs. By the time she had finished under the shower, Mrs. Weems appeared with a glass of hot lemonade.
“Drink this,” she commanded sternly. “Then get into bed and I’ll fix you up with the hot water bag.”
“But I’m not sick,” Penny grumbled.
“You will be tomorrow,” the housekeeper predicted. “Your father told me how he allowed you to stay at the bridge while police searched for the saboteur. I declare, I don’t know what he was thinking of!”
“Dad and I are a couple of tough old news hawks,” Penny chuckled. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to compromise with you.”