CHAPTER XXIII
A GOOD TRUE FRIEND
It was springtime and the parks and avenues were in all the dainty splendor of their new leaves. The afternoon May sun was flooding the city with gold and silver light, and all the air was tremulous with the singing of birds. A good day it was to live if one could only live in the sunny air within sight of the green leaves and within sound of the singing birds. A day for life and love it was; at least so Kate thought as she drew up her prancing team at the St. Clair house where Harry stood waiting for her.
"Dear Kate," he cried, "how stunning you are! I love you!"
"Come, Harry, jump up! Breton is getting excited."
"Stony-hearted wretch," grumbled Harry. "Did you hear me tell you I love you?"
"Nonsense, Harry, jump in; I'll report to Lily Langford."
"Don't tell," pleaded Harry, "and do keep Breton on all fours. This isn't a circus. You terrify me."
"We have only time to make the train, hurry up!" cried Kate. "Steady, my boys."
"Some day, Kate, those 'boys' of yours will be your death or the death of some of your friends," said Harry, as he sprang in and took his place beside Kate.
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