"I wonder what would be nice? An old fellow like me would not know about a party gown."
"Warren would. He and Betty talked a little about it last night. And that made me think—but it didn't come into my mind until a few moments ago that maybe there would be enough of my own money to buy one."
Doris glanced at him with such wistful entreaty that he felt he could not have denied her a much greater thing. He remembered, too, that Elizabeth Leverett had refused to take any compensation for Doris, this winter at least, and he had been thinking how to make some return.
"Yes, I will see Warren. And we will surprise Betty. But perhaps her mother would be a better judge."
"I think Aunt Elizabeth doesn't quite want Betty to go, although she told Mrs. Morse she should."
"Oh, it's at the Morses'? Well, they are very nice people. And young folks do go to parties. Yes, we will see about the gown."
"Uncle Winthrop, you are like the uncles in fairy stories. I had such a beautiful fairy book at home, but it must have been mislaid."
She put her white-mittened hand over his driving glove, but he felt the soft pressure with a curious thrill.
They went through Cambridge Street and Hilier's Lane and there they were at home.
"It has been lovely," she said with a happy sigh as he lifted her out. Then she reached up from the stepping-stone and kissed him.