Laura Crane - The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach - or, Proving Their Mettle Under Southern Skies

“I suppose so,” assented Ruth, whose enthusiasm had somewhat cooled over night. “I don’t want her. But we ought to be polite.”

The two girls greeted Maud Warren cordially. There was a discontented line across that young woman’s brow, and an angry look in her pale blue eyes.

“I am looking for the count,” she declared defiantly.

The girls instinctively knew that Maud was disobeying her father. Mr. Warren had just finished lecturing Maud and had commanded that she cut the count’s acquaintance.

“I saw the count a few minutes ago. He was starting off with his friend for a walk,” explained Bab gently. “Won’t you take a stroll on the beach with us, Maud? It is such a perfect morning.”

“Oh, do come, Maud,” begged Ruth, with a charming, cordial smile. Ruth’s sweet nature was again asserting itself.

“Yes, do,” cried Mollie and Grace, who had just joined the little group of girls.

Maud’s face softened. “You are awfully nice,” she said. Maud was a little taken aback by so much friendliness. She had been spoiled all her life, and had never had real friends among young girls. People had thought her disagreeable and overbearing, and she had held herself aloof, displaying a degree of hauteur that admitted of no friendship.

“Let’s get our hats and go immediately. It will soon be time to go in bathing,” suggested Bab. Barbara never missed a swim if she could help it.

“All right, old water dog,” Ruth agreed. “Meet us on the piazza looking toward the ocean, Maud. We will be back in ten minutes.”

The girls were back on the piazza at the appointed time. Maud was there. But with her were Marian De Lancey Smythe, and the Count de Sonde.

“What a nuisance!” exclaimed Ruth under her breath. But there was nothing to be done; therefore the girls decided to accept this undesired addition to their number with the best possible grace.

The entire party started down the avenue of palms toward the ocean.

The “Automobile Girls” were thrilled with the beauty of the great stretch of blue water. Marian De Lancey Smythe, too, had a soul stirring within her. It had been choked by the false principles and ostentations that her mother had taught her. But Marian was not a stupid girl. Her wits had been sharpened by years of managing and deceit. She had the sense to see the difference between herself and the four sweet, unaffected “Automobile Girls,” and she knew the difference was in their favor.

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