afraid I'm not a real celebrity," laughed Linda. "I'll be forgotten by the public this time next year. I sincerely hope that more and more girls and women will be doing things in aviation, so that my little stunt will seem trivial. That is progress, you know."
Scarcely had the visitor gone before Miss Carlton was begging Linda to open her other letters.
"The Junior League picnic is tomorrow," she said. "And Dot Crowley is giving a luncheon in honor of Kitty Clavering… There are probably a lot more things, too…"
Rather listlessly Linda opened her letters. It was not the same, she thought, without Louise to share everything. Louise Haydock – Louise Mackay now – had been her chum all through school, where they were so inseparable that they were always referred to by their friends as the "double Ls." The other girl's marriage had meant a sharp break to Linda, for the Mackays had moved to Wichita, Kansas, where Ted was employed as a flyer.
As if Miss Carlton understood her niece's thoughts, she remarked that Louise was coming for Kitty's wedding.
Linda's eyes shone with joy.
"Flying?" she inquired, as a matter of course.
"Yes. She and Ted are arriving some time tonight. Mrs. Haydock called up, and asked me to tell you."
Linda could not read her mail for a few minutes, so intense was her happiness at this splendid news.
"Ted can go with me to see about the autogiro!" she exclaimed. "I do so want his opinion!"
"Go where?"
"To Philadelphia, where the Pitcairn Company is located."
Again Miss Carlton looked annoyed, almost shocked.
"You don't mean to say you'll take time to fly to Philadelphia, with all your engagements?"
Linda nodded.
"I'll be here for the wedding, Aunt Emily. Don't worry about that. But nothing else is particularly important."
Miss Carlton groaned. What could you do with a girl like Linda? You might as well have a boy!
The mail was finally opened and sorted, and Linda dutifully went to a dinner dance at the Country Club that evening with Ralph Clavering. But she was tense all evening, for she was hoping every moment that Louise would arrive.
About midnight the young couple dashed in, radiant in their happiness. To everyone's amusement Louise flew into Linda's arms in the middle of the dance floor.
"How do you get that way?" demanded Ralph, pretending to be angry. "As if it isn't enough to endure every fellow in the room tapping me when I'm dancing with Linda, without having girls do it too!"
But the double Ls scarcely heard him. They were so enraptured at seeing each other again.
"I'm going to stay a week!" announced Louise. "Luckily, Ted has some business in Philadelphia and New York, and he'll be flying back and forth."
"Philadelphia!" exclaimed Linda. "Isn't that great! Can we go with him there?"
"Of course we can, if you don't mind a squeeze. The plane isn't very big," explained Louise. "But then, we're not fat. Ted'll be tickled to death to have company – he hates flying alone. But why do you want to go to Philadelphia, Linda?"
"To buy an autogiro!"
"You always were crazy about those things. Remember the time you gave up a dance to fly one?"
"I certainly do. And you wouldn't go with me."
"Well, there was a reason," laughed Louise, making no secret of her admiration for her husband… "I think Ted'll go day after tomorrow," she continued. "We thought we'd enjoy resting a day, and taking in the Junior League picnic."
"Fine!" agreed Linda. "That will give everybody a chance to see you. Besides, Aunt Emily would die if I missed that affair. Remember the one last year. Didn't we have fun?"
"We certainly did," smiled Louise, reminiscently. "But it seems like more than a year ago – so much has happened."
"I wasn't even flying then," observed the other.
"And I hadn't met Ted!"
"You're a real bride, Lou!" returned Linda, affectionately. "But you're just the same old dear!"
The following day was just as delightful as it had been the previous year, and the picnic another success. To Linda it was all the more enjoyable, because of the novelty of seeing her old friends again after the separation caused by a year at the school in St. Louis.
Ted went along with Louise, and entered into all the sports, just as if he had been born and brought up with the crowd in Spring City. Moreover, he was delighted at the prospect of having the two girls go with him the next day, and appeared almost as enthusiastic about the autogiro as Linda herself.
The weather continued perfect, and the three happy young people took off from Spring City the following morning. An excellent mechanic himself, Ted always kept his plane in tip-top condition, and it was a rare thing indeed for him even to encounter a minor accident. This flight proved no exception; straight and swift through the June skies he flew to the field outside the city of Philadelphia where the autogiros were on display.
"You really expect to buy one today, Linda?" asked Louise, as she climbed out of the plane.
"Yes – if Ted gives his approval," replied the capable aviatrix. She had always had the greatest confidence in this young red-haired pilot, who had taken her on her first flight, and who had saved her and his wife from disaster upon two occasions.
"Are you sure that it can go fast enough to suit you, Linda?" asked Ted.
"It can travel a hundred and twenty-five miles an hour, and that ought to satisfy me. If I were entering any air-races, I'd want a special racing plane anyhow, for the occasion. But I'm not going out for races. I want to take a job, and I think an autogiro will be the most convenient plane I can have, to take with me anywhere I want to go. I shan't have to depend on big fields for landing."
"Right-o," agreed the young man.
They walked across the field and were shown a model by an enthusiastic salesman. As the reporter had said, it did look like a flying bug, with its odd wind-mill-like rotor on top, and its small stub-like wings, which were there mainly to mount the lateral controls or ailerons.
"It isn't so pretty as the Arrow," remarked Louise.
"Handsome is as handsome does," returned Linda. "If we'd had an autogiro that time in Canada, when our gas leaked out, a forced landing wouldn't have been disastrous."
"Why?"
"Because the rotor takes care of that, after the engine is dead," explained Linda. "An autogiro can come down vertically at a slower rate than we did with our parachutes."
"I'll never forget how scared I was that time we jumped off," remarked her companion. "You know, it's one thing to see other people do it – in the air, or at the movies – and its something else to step off into space yourself. That all-gone feeling!"
"I don't mind it any more now – it doesn't seem any worse than dropping ten stories in an elevator. But I know what you mean."
"Well,
