He drew back from her as far as her hold upon him permitted, and looked at her sharply. “Look here!” he said. “I get you, all right! What's the matter of Alice GOIN' to that party by herself?”
“She just CAN'T!”
“Why not?”
“It makes things too MEAN for her, Walter. All the other girls have somebody to depend on after they get there.”
“Well, why doesn't she have somebody?” he asked, testily. “Somebody besides ME, I mean! Why hasn't somebody asked her to go? She ought to be THAT popular, anyhow, I sh'd think—she TRIES enough!”
“I don't understand how you can be so hard,” his mother wailed, huskily. “You know why they don't run after her the way they do the other girls she goes with, Walter. It's because we're poor, and she hasn't got any background.
“'Background?'” Walter repeated. “'Background?' What kind of talk is that?”
“You WILL go with her to-night, Walter?” his mother pleaded, not stopping to enlighten him. “You don't understand how hard things are for her and how brave she is about them, or you COULDN'T be so selfish! It'd be more than I can bear to see her disappointed to-night! She went clear out to Belleview Park this afternoon, Walter, and spent hours and hours picking violets to wear. You WILL——”
Walter's heart was not iron, and the episode of the violets may have reached it. “Oh, BLUB!” he said, and flung his soft hat violently at the wall.
His mother beamed with delight. “THAT'S a good boy, darling! You'll never be sorry you——”