today! How good the clear sunlight would feel, how bracing the air that held the crispness of autumn! She was glad, too, to be alone, after yesterday's nerve-racking experience.
Nor was there any reason for hurry this time. She could land at Pittsburgh, or some other convenient half-way airport, and have a good lunch. And still arrive home long before dark.
It was just about four o'clock when she finally brought her plane down in the field behind her house at Spring City. Gathering her things together, she made her way slowly to the porch, singing as she went along. Her aunt – her father's sister who had taken care of her ever since her mother's death – was nervously waiting for her on the steps.
"Linda!" she cried, as soon as the girl was within hearing distance. "Do hurry up and tell me what you have been doing!"
"Didn't you get my telegram, Aunt Emily?" she asked, kissing the older woman.
"Yes. But – alone in Philadelphia! I do hope you had a chaperon! You didn't go with any of the boys?" Miss Carlton was old-fashioned and strict; she had done everything in her power to bring up her niece in the most correct manner.
"No, no, Auntie!" She smiled affectionately. "I went with a woman named Mrs. Beach – to rush her baby to the hospital. And I stayed all night with her."
"Oh!" exclaimed Miss Carlton, in relief. "I should have been more worried than I was, except that I didn't find out that you had gone off in your plane until I got your telegram. And by that time the fog had lifted… But come inside and have some tea and sandwiches, and tell me all about it."
Linda followed her into the house and briefly related her story, not mentioning the stall at all, for she made it a point never to worry her aunt unnecessarily, because the latter was so timid about airplanes that she had never even gone for a ride in the Pursuit.
"Now I must call Dr. Ginsley," the girl concluded, as she finished the last sandwich on the plate.
"No, dear – I'll call him for you. You must go right upstairs and take a nap. Don't forget that Kitty's dinner is tonight, and Harry is coming for you at half-past seven."
Linda smiled; of all the boys she knew, she admired Harriman Smith most, although he was the poorest financially of her select social group at Spring City. He belonged to perhaps the finest type of young men in America today – the class who are working their own way through college. Handsome, clean-cut, ambitious, bound to make his mark in the world! And he was head over heels in love with pretty Linda Carlton. But, unlike Ralph Clavering, another of the girl's admirers, he did not often speak of his infatuation. It wasn't fair to a girl to talk love, he believed, until a man had something with which to back it up.
"What will you wear?" inquired Miss Carlton. "Your white chiffon?"
"No," answered Linda, thoughtfully. "I don't think that would be fair to Kitty. It's Kitty's big party, and of course she'll wear white – with her pearls, so I think all her friends ought to wear colors, to sort of set her off, like a queen… I believe I'll wear my daffodil."
"All right, just as you say. But do run along."
Never in her life had Linda attended such a gorgeous party as this début of Kitty Clavering. The Claverings were millionaires several times over, by far the richest people in Spring City, and they gave this function in a lavish style. The huge house shone with brilliant lights, the flowers reminded Linda of a flower show; the caterers had been brought from Chicago, and the music was by Paul Whiteman himself, with his famous jazz orchestra.
It was all so dazzling, so bewildering, that Linda felt as if she were lost in some tropical island, among strangers. It was some time before she recognized anybody she knew, and she clung tightly to Harry's arm. He pressed her hand gently; it was wonderful to have a chance to protect Linda Carlton, who usually was so fearless.
"I wish we could find Lou," she remarked, mentioning her chum, her dearest friend who had gone through school with her, and graduated in the same class the preceding June. "Lou is so much more at home at this sort of thing than I am."
They were seated at a little table now – there were tables of every size in the dining-room and conservatory and library – and a waiter was serving them with the most delicious food.
Linda ate hers almost in awe, wondering whether this was the sort of thing her aunt was planning for her. The expense of it! Why, it would cost as much as a whole year's course at a ground school! And where would it get you in the end? It would only lead to more parties – more expense. Linda sighed.
"Why the sigh, Linda?" inquired Harry, sympathetically.
"I guess it wasn't very polite," replied the girl, flushing. "But I'm afraid my mind is on other things."
"Well, try to bring it back. Here comes our host – with another man. An army officer!"
"I'm not interested in army officers," she whispered, but when she saw from the stranger's insignia that he belonged to the Flying Corps, she changed her mind.
"Hello, Linda," exclaimed Ralph Clavering, Kitty's brother who had taken a course with Linda at the Spring City Flying School a few months before. "Been looking all over for you. You too, Harry!.. I want to introduce Lieutenant Hulbert, of the U. S. Air Service."
Ralph went on to explain what a marvelous little flyer Miss Carlton was, until Linda's eyelids fluttered in embarrassment, and she wished he would stop talking so that she could hear some of the Lieutenant's experiences. But the music had started, and Ralph was impatient to dance.
"We mustn't keep Lieutenant Hulbert," he explained. "He's to have Kit's first dance."
With a gracious bow the young officer withdrew, and Ralph turned to Harry.
"Do me a favor, Harry, old man?" he said.
"Did you call him Harriman?" asked Linda. "Why all the dignity?"
"No. 'Harry – old – man!'"
"So long as you don't call me 'the old Harry,'" laughed the other. "Well, what is it?"
"Lend me your girl friend for this dance. I have something very important to tell to Linda."
"All right," agreed the other, pleasantly. "At least if you'll find me another girl."
"Sure I will," said Ralph, and in another minute he came back with Louise Haydock, Linda's chum.
Louise was just the opposite in type to Linda. Though not exactly pretty, she was extremely striking-looking; her hair was clipped close, after the manner of Kay Francis, the actress, and she always wore earrings and bright colored dresses. Tonight her dress was a new brilliant shade of green, with trimmings of silver, and silver slippers to match.
"Hello, darling!" she exclaimed, joyfully. "Who'd ever think I'd find you! It's almost as impossible to locate anybody here as on the beach at Atlantic City!"
"I know. And I've been dying to see you!" returned Linda.
"All your own fault. Where have you been these last two days?"
"Why – "
"Please have your visit later," interrupted Ralph, who still preserved much of the spoiled child in his make-up. "The dance is half over now."
"All right," agreed Linda, with a wink, meaning, "See you later," to her chum.
Off they started; the floor was perfect, the music excellent, and for a minute or two they both gave themselves up to the joy of the dance. But time was precious; Ralph might not have another dance with Linda all evening. Besides, nobody cut in during the first dance – that was an unwritten rule with their crowd.
"Who is this Lieutenant?" asked Linda, as they happened to pass him dancing with Kitty.
"A fine fellow. The kind you girls fall for – uniform, and all that," replied Ralph, somewhat enviously. "But don't you fall for him! He belongs to Kitty!"
"Kitty! But I thought she was practically engaged to Maurice Stetson?"
"That's all off. Stetson made one wisecrack too many, and it cracked Sis's dream of happiness. He isn't even here tonight."
"I can't say I'll miss him a whole lot."
"I