“I know you don’t, you old goose, but you must.” Patty took her cousin’s arm and led her off to the cloak-room.
“Be goody-girl,” Herron called after her, “and we’ll stop at any place you like for afternoon tea.”
“Oh, will you?” and Helen brightened up suddenly. “At the Sunset Tea-room?”
“Yes, wherever you say.”
The sleigh came to the door,—horses prancing, bells jingling, and the driver cracking his whip, in true old-time style.
“Oh, wait a minute,” Patty cried, as they were about to get in, “where’s my stole? Mrs. Doremus still has it! I’m so glad I remembered.”
“I’ll get it,” volunteered Herron. “You others wait here.”
He was gone so long that Philip suggested Mrs. Doremus had decamped with the fur.
“Was it valuable, Patty?”
“Yes; that is, it’s a perfectly good piece of kolinski.”