"Come and take me to ride, then."
"Why don't you go alone? I'm busy."
Cicely took forcible possession of his book.
"Allyn, you must come. I've a bad attack of the blues."
"Get rid of them, then."
"That comes well from you."
"What's the matter, Cis?"
"Papa isn't coming home till fall, and I've got to stay here."
Allyn looked up sharply. Then he whistled.
"You don't mean it!"