Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Miller having finished three sets, repaired to an isolated bench to enjoy a soda-lemonade and to cool off under the influences of a friendly chat. Mrs. Reynolds, who, as has been intimated, wore the breath of life in her nostrils, had got slightly the better of her adversary, and was inclined therefore to be on the alert, if not perky. Her ears were the first to detect the whir of an automobile, and she pricked them up. Then the toot of a horn fixed everyone's attention on the approaching monster, for automobiles were still more or less of a novelty, and engendered curiosity. In another instant a huge machine, of bridal white, as Mrs. Baxter subsequently described it, tore around the corner of the road, and, dashing past the occupants of the tennis courts, swept up to the ladies' entrance of the club-house, where it paused, snorting like a huge dragon. It was the largest and most imposing "bubble" which Westfield had gazed upon. Many of the spectators left their places to examine it, and everyone's head was turned in that direction.
A huge machine of bridal white ... tore around the corner.
"It is they!" said Mrs. Reynolds with emphasis; then, after a pause, she asked: "Are you going to-morrow afternoon?"
"I suppose so. As it was a 'request the pleasure,' I had to answer, and we didn't have an engagement. Besides, she has brought home some lovely new tapestries, and we are asked to meet an Eastern soothsayer, who is said to be a marvel at mind-reading. Mrs. Charles Haviland and half a dozen women, who are supposed to be fastidious, are coming from town, so my husband seemed to think we had better go."
"It's because she's artistic that she is forgiven, so my husband says, and of course if everyone else is going to 'Norrey's Knoll' there is no sense in our turning up our noses at the new master and mistress."
"Is Mrs. Cunningham going?" asked Mrs. Miller.
"I hear that Dick Weston has bet Mr. Douglas Hale fifty dollars to twenty-five that she does."
"I suppose Lydia and her husband have come to lunch and play bridge," said Mrs. Miller musingly. "They say she plays wonderfully—almost as well as he does. My husband objects to my playing for money."