Part 14 (2/2)
Cora gazed at the black bag that Daisy held up for her inspection.
”Why,” faltered Cora, ”that must belong to Clip. Why didn't you ask to whom it did belong?”
”I really never thought a word about it until Maud said just now it must be Clip's.”
”But why did you pick it up without asking?” insisted Cora, her voice somewhat indignant.
”It was dropped on the road. I thought of course it belonged to some of the girls, and just threw it in my car in a hurry when you called to us to hasten along,” said Daisy, her voice sharp and eyes flas.h.i.+ng.
”I am sure it must belong to Clip,” said Cora, calming down. ”I hope it will not inconvenience her.”
”I wish you would take the smelly thing,” shouted Daisy. ”It smells like papa's office, and I hate drugs.”
”Clip was going to see some sick relative,” went on Cora, ”and of course the satchel--”
”Must be filled with the sickness,” and Daisy laughed sarcastically.
”Well, papa's bag smells that way, but he has more than one 'sick relative.'”
Cora frowned. Gertrude looked surprised. Hazel shook her head at Daisy.
”Toss it here,” called Cora. ”I just love disinfectants.”
Daisy threw the bag into the Whirlwind. Then she put on speed and pa.s.sed the big car.
For a few miles the girls seemed very quiet, scarcely any conversation being held.
It was but a short run to the Grotto, the little wayside tea-house.
The party was a full hour late, but Cora knew she could depend upon generous excuses for the motor girls.
So many things might happen by the way, and so many things did happen.
”I suppose,” murmured Ray, ”the biscuit will be stony. I do love hot biscuit.”
”Don't worry. Tillie will keep things hot, if she possibly can do so.
But I hear they have had some very busy days at the Grotto. I hope we have not hit upon the very busiest. Gertrude, have I told you about the Grotto? Did you know that Mathilde Herold and Adele Genung are keeping a tea-house this summer, to earn enough money for their senior year? And they have done surprisingly well. Yes, their folks have a summer place near the tea-house, so the girls go home nights, and of course the place must be very pretty--Tillie is an artist in decorating.”
”Splendid!” exclaimed Gertrude. ”Of course I know Tillie. What girl at Springsley doesn't know her? She has been decorating for every affair at the gym. And she always helped with chapel. Oh, yes, indeed, Cora, I agree with you, Tillie Herold is an artist.”
”Well, let us hope her talent is not confined to mere walls,” said Ray.
”Hot biscuit requires a different stroke, I believe.”
”In accepting us for to-day,” said Cora. ”Tillie stipulated that we should dine table d'hote and no questions asked. I hope, Ray, you will not be disappointed.”
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