Leaning against her husband's shoulder, Charlotte began to
rest.
It had been a busy week, the heat had been of that first unbearable high
temperature of mid-June with which some seasons assault us, and young
Mrs. Churchill had felt her responsibilities more heavily than ever
before. As the car flew down the river road she shut her eyes.
"Why, where are we turning in?" Charlotte opened her eyes. She had been
almost asleep, soothed by the cool and quiet.
"Look ahead through the trees," Doctor Churchill said in her ear, and
Charlotte sat up.
She saw on the river bank, far ahead, a low house with long porches,
hung thickly with Chinese lanterns. Each window glowed with one of the
swinging globes, and long lines of them stretched off among the trees.
At one side gleamed two white tents, and in front of these burned
bonfires.
"What is it? It must be a lawn party. But we're not dressed for it!"
murmured Charlotte, her eyes wide open now.
Just then a tremendous shout from the automobile in front rang through
the grove. Their own car ran up to the steps, where stood Doctor
Forester and John Lansing Birch under the lanterns, both dressed from
head to foot in white.
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