“Do go, dear,” said Lettie to Leslie, “and I will be helping to arrange the room for the dances. I want to watch you—I am rather tired—it is so exciting—Emily will take my place.”
They went. Marie and Tom, and Mother and I played bridge in one corner. Lettie said she wanted to show George some new pictures, and they bent over a portfolio for some time. Then she bade him help her to clear the room for the dances.
“Well, you have had time to think,” she said to him.
“A short time,” he replied. “What shall I say?”
“Tell me what you’ve been thinking.”
“Well—about you——” he answered, smiling foolishly.
“What about me?” she asked, venturesome.
“About you, how you were at college,” he replied.
“Oh! I had a good time. I had plenty of boys. I liked them all, till I found there was nothing in them; then they tired me.”
“Poor boys!” he said laughing. “Were they all alike?”
“All alike,” she replied, “and they are still.”
“Pity,” he said, smiling. “It’s hard lines on you.”
“Why?” she asked.
“It leaves you nobody to care for——” he replied.
“How very sarcastic you are. You make one reservation.”
“Do I?” he answered, smiling. “But you fire sharp into the air, and then say we’re all blank cartridges—except one, of course.”
