She turned to Mabel. “What do you think?” she asked. “Would it be better to ask him to meet me in Paris, Lexington, or where?”
“I don’t know,” replied Mabel. “But it seems to me that Paris is pretty close to your home. Besides, Jimmy is well known in Lexington also.”
“True,” said Shirley. “I think I shall select Cincinnati.”
“Goodness,” said Mabel, “that is a long ways.”
“So it is,” said Shirley, “but I can make an excuse to go there. I can tell father we are going to spend a couple of days with Clara Morton. He will not object.”
“Suit yourself,” said Mabel. “I reckon it might as well be there as any place else. It probably will be safer too. We can stay with Clara while there.”
“My idea exactly,” said Shirley. “Now let’s see if I can write the proper kind of a letter.”
She drew forth some paper—and wrote long and earnestly. Sheet after sheet she tore up, but at last, with a little cry of satisfaction, she took the last sheet, upon which she had just written, and passed it to Mabel.
“I think that will do very well.”
Mabel read: