“Be sure to telephone to me to-morrow, dearest.”
“It is almost to-morrow now. I’ll ’phone you to-day—instead,” she answered laughingly as she hurried away.
Elinor snuggled in the car beside her father on their way home from the dance. She was supremely happy. Her heart sang in tune to the purring of the motor.
“He loves me! He loves me!”
Templeton Druid, the idol of all the young women in New York—loved her!
It seemed almost too wonderful to be true. There was but one flaw. What would her mother say—when she finally told her? Her heart missed a beat in mere anticipation. “Dad will surely understand,” she told herself. She could always bring him about to her way of thinking.
She reached for his hand. “Are you tired, Daddy dear?”
“No, little one,” he replied. “I was just living over the evening—I don’t remember when I have so thoroughly enjoyed myself.”
“I’m so glad. I was afraid you might be dreadfully bored. How do you like Geraldine?”
“She is one of the most charming, interesting women I have ever met.” His answer came decisively, then there was a note of peevishness in his voice as he added: “Really, Elinor, I can’t see why your mother should object to her.”