Tommy declared that it was a
perfectly delightful mythtery, and that she didn't care where they
were going, while Margery on the contrary, grumbled incessantly.
The start had been made late in the afternoon. The day had been
cloudy. There were even indications of rain, but the girls did not
care. They were too well inured to the weather to be disturbed by
lowering skies and threatening clouds. In the meantime Jane McCarthy
was bowling along to the southward, throwing up a cloud of dust,
having many narrow escapes from collisions with farmers' wagons and
wandering stock. They had been traveling about two hours when the
guardian directed their daring driver to turn to the left. The latter
did so, thus heading the car to the eastward.
"I think I begin to understand," thought Harriet Burrell aloud.
"What ith it that you underthtand?" demanded Tommy, pricking up her
ears. "You know where we are going, don't you?"
"I can make a close guess," replied Harriet, nodding brightly.
"Oh, tell uth, tell uth," begged Tommy.
Harriet shook her head.
"I couldn't think of it. Miss Elting wishes it to be a surprise to
you."
"Well, won't it be jutht ath much of a thurprithe now ath it will be
thome other time?" argued Grace Thompson.
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