March 16.
Sister and I were among several guests at Mr. and Mrs. Forsythe’s box party last night and Robert managed to have the chair next mine, and when “the lights were dim and low” he found my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze and said, “I want to have a long talk with you soon, without fear of interruption, and I know of no way this can be had unless you meet me down town and take dinner with me.”
I asked him if he thought it was right, and he said, “You know I would not ask you to do anything I thought was wrong.”
So I have promised to go. I wonder what in the world he is going to tell me.