"Dicky!" I swallowed hard and stopped short.
He adroitly swung me across the street into the safety of the runway leading down into the station before he spoke.
"Well, what's on your conscience?" He smiled down at me roguishly.
"You look as if you were going to confess to a murder at least."
"Not that bad," I smiled faintly. "But oh, Dicky, if I promise to try not to say anything irritating today, will you promise not to, either?"
"Sure as you're born," Dicky returned cheerfully. "Don't want to spoil the day, eh?"
"It's such a heavenly day," I sighed. "I feel as if I couldn't stand it to have anything mar it."
As we sat in the train that bore us to Marvin Dicky outlined some of his plans for the summer.
"There are two or three of the fellows who come down here summers who I know will be glad to go Dutch on a motor boat," he said. "We can take the bulliest trips, way out to deserted sand islands, where the surf is the best ever. We'll take along a tent and spend the night there sometime, or we can stretch out in the boat. Then we must see if we can get hold of some horses. Do you ride? Think of it! We've been married months, and I don't know yet whether you ride or not!"
"No, I don't ride, but oh, how I've always wanted to!" I returned with enthusiasm. Then, with a sudden qualm, "But all that will be terribly expensive, won't it?"
"Not so awful," Dicky said, smiling down at me. "But even if it is,
I guess we can stand it. I've had some cracking good orders lately.
We'll have one whale of a summer."