Lucile Triumphant Part 36

"You needn't take so much credit to yourself, brother, dear," Lucile countered. "We were going to get up, anyway, weren't we, girls," to which the girls agreed shamelessly.

"It's a compliment, anyway," said Jessie, philosophically. "They were so eager for our society that they even had to resort to tricks."

"Right you are," laughed Jack. "Now that we have some time, let's make good use of it. Come on; we'll hike," and, taking Lucile's arm, he started down the drive.

"Where to?" called Phil.

"Makes no difference to me where we go," Jack flung back, recklessly.

"Let the girls decide."

"Make Lucile take the lead," Jessie suggested. "Maybe she can unearth some more mysteries."

"No, she won't; she's through," said Phil, decidedly. "If there are any more clues floating around loose, it's going to be her brother that will find them. I want that distinctly understood."

Meanwhile, Lucile and Jack had swung off into a narrow and much more difficult road than the one they were on, and Phil shouted a remonstrance.

"Why not stick to the road we know about?" he shouted, and they stopped and looked back. "That looks like a pretty stiff climb."

"We know as much about this as we do the other," Jack shouted back, "and this is lots prettier. Come on; if it gets too steep, we can always go back."

"No, I guess we'll stick to this one," Phil decided. "It looks like too much work where you are," and the trio walked on.

Lucile started to follow, but Jack laid a restraining hand on her arm.

"We don't have to follow them," he pleaded. "It's so long since I've seen you, and I haven't been able to talk to you yet."

Lucile hesitated; then, "Well, just for a short distance," she conceded.

"And then we can meet them on the way back."

"Thanks," he said; then added, "I thought you weren't very glad to see me yesterday. You know, I was strongly tempted to take the next steamer across the Atlantic. Haven't you thought of me at all?"

It was rather a hard question to ask, and Lucile blushed when she remembered how often she had thought of him and his letters.

"Of course," she said; "and I wrote to you----"

"Just twice," he finished. "I came very near sending you a box of writing paper--thought there must be a scarcity of it over here."

Lucile laughed her gay little laugh. "That would have been a surprise,"

she chuckled; then, more seriously, "But you know, there are so many people to write to, and it was awfully hard----"

"Oh, yes, I know all about it," he broke in. "Terribly busy; couldn't find time, and all that, but if you think very much of somebody, writing isn't a duty; it's a pleasure."

"But I didn't say," Lucile began; then, desperately, "Oh, please, can't we talk of something else?"

"Certainly," he agreed, and Lucile sensed the hurt in his voice. "We'll talk of anything you please. What plans have you made for the day?"

"Why, Dad said he would take us to Paris," said Lucile, instantly sorry for her little speech, yet afraid to say so. "We simply can't wait to get there! Of course you are going with us?"

"If I may. I came over with my uncle, you know, and left him in Paris to transact some important business while I hunted you up. It's a good little place--the inn, I mean--and I'm glad your father asked me to stay for the night. It's a charming spot and quite close enough to the city."

"That's what Dad thought. Then, after we have lunch at some swell little restaurant--you know----"

"Yes, I know," he agreed, laughingly. "Colored lights, and music, orchestra, and that," and he waved his hand expressively.

"Uh-huh; and after all that, he's going to drop us at the Louvre--oh, how naturally I speak of it now, and it used to seem like something on a different planet--while he tries to look up M. Charloix--he gave Dad his card on shipboard, luckily."

"And then?" he prompted, laughing eyes fixed on the lovely, animated face at his shoulder.

"Well, then," she continued eagerly, "then comes the very best of all.

We're going somewhere for dinner, then the theater, then dinner again, oh-h----"

"Just one glorious day of gladness," he laughed; then, noticing her quickened breath, "We mustn't tire you too much this morning when you have such a long day before you. Suppose we rest a while."

"And here is the very place," she agreed, indicating a great, flat rock, shaded by a huge, spreading tree. "Oh, isn't the view wonderful from here? I hadn't noticed it before."

"You said it," Jack agreed, stretching his lazy length on the gra.s.s at her feet. "The hill has formed a sort of shallow precipice and the lake sure does look great down there."

For a few moments they were silent, drinking in the beauty prodigal Nature lavished all about them. Furtively Lucile examined this cavalier of hers. Straight of feature, bronzed from living in the open, eyes so full of fun you had to laugh in sympathy--oh, he was handsome; there was no doubt of that. And his hair, black and wavy and soft--Lucile was sure it was soft----

"I wish you would tell me what you are thinking about," he said, looking up with a quizzical little smile. "You were quiet so long----"

"That is unusual," she laughed, trying not to look confused. "Perhaps we had better be starting back," she added; "the others will be looking for us."

"Just as you say," he answered for the second time that morning; then, as he helped her to her feet, "I wish we could have this day together; it's been great to be alone with you even for this short time. But I forgot that that subject was unwelcome----"

"Oh, please," she begged, laying an impulsive little hand on his arm.

"I--I didn't mean to be cross."

He caught the little peace-making hand in both his own, laughing down into the prettiest eyes he had ever seen.

"That's the best thing I have heard to-day," he exulted.

CHAPTER XXV

THE THUNDERBOLT

Breakfast was over, and the girls had hidden their pretty evening coats under long linen dusters. For, as Mrs. Payton had explained, they would have no time to change for the evening, and they must look their best--to which, needless to say, the girls agreed with enthusiasm.

"And we can wear those new motor bonnets we bought in England the day before we sailed," Lucile rejoiced. So the insistent honk of the motor horn found them all cloaked and bonneted, and ready for the day's fun.

"Come on," cried Lucile, pulling Jessie away from the mirror by main force; "you look wonderful, Jessie," and down the stairs they ran and out onto the veranda, where a good many of the guests had a.s.sembled to see them off.

The boys took immediate possession of them and hustled them, w.i.l.l.y-nilly, into the car, despite their vehement protestations that they must say "good-byes" to "lots of people."

"They'll be here when you get back," Phil argued, "and mother's already been waiting half an hour. Time's up!" And off they went with great noise and laughter and waving of hands to the group on the porch.