"Well, I'm sorry I didn't see the horse," confessed Bobby. "But I'll go with you to see the girl. And I do want to see the blouse."
That, Betty showed her the moment they arrived at Fairfields and could run upstairs to the room the two girls shared while Betty visited here. The latter unfolded the orange-silk blouse and spread it on the bed. Bobby went into exstacies over it, as in duty bound.
"Wait till you see the one she is making for you," Betty said. "You'll love it!"
"What is that you are going to love?" asked a voice outside the open door. "Measles?"
"Oh, Bob! Who ever heard the like?" demanded Betty. "Love measles. Indeed. Why—What makes you look so queer?"
"Greatest thing you ever heard, girls!" cried Bob, his face very red and his eyes shining. "I didn't really understand how much I had come to hate books and drill these last few weeks."
"What do you mean?" demanded Roberta Littell. "If you don't tell us at once!"
"Why, didn't you hear? Telegrams have come. To all our parents and guardians. Measles! Measles! Measles!"
He began to dance a very poor imitation of the Highland Fling in the hall. The girls ran out and seized him, one on either side, and big as Bob was they managed to shake him soundly.
