Amid great fun, Mrs. Irving, who was rosy-cheeked and
matronly and as jolly as the girls, was wedged into the remaining
space, Amy climbed to the front seat beside Mollie and Grace took her
seat with Betty.
They were off! The sting of the wind was in their faces, and the sun
beat warmly down upon them as they rolled along, passing familiar
houses, and sometimes familiar people, to whom they waved, and so on
and on till they left the town behind them and started out on the open
road.
"My, this is something like," commented Grace, stretching her feet out
before her for all the world like a lazy, comfortable cat. "I feel
awfully sorry for all the poor people who haven't cars to ride in
to-day and Wild Rose Lodges to visit. By the way, why is it called
Wild Rose Lodge, Betty?"
"Because they say there are lots of wild roses around it, of course,"
Betty responded, her hands resting easily on the wheel, her eyes
bright with the joy of the moment. Grace, stealing a sideways glance
at her, could not help thinking that Betty looked not unlike a wild
rose herself.
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