“Will you? Oh, Dot, then we can do it. We’ll have to plan it—”
“Oh, of course! You’d have to plan, if it was only to eat your dinner!” and Dotty affectionately pulled the golden curls. “And say, old Dollypops, we haven’t planned much for our luncheon next Saturday.”
“Couldn’t very well, when we were mad. Oh, Dot, wasn’t it horrid in the house yesterday morning?”
“Horrid all the time. Hasn’t to-day been awful?”
“Yep. But it was funny you had to come over here to stay just now.”
“Awful funny. Now about Saturday—”
“No, sir! Not now about Saturday. Do you know what time it is?”
“Nixy; and I don’t care.”
“Well, I do. It’s ’most two o’clock, and Mother will give us Jesse to-morrow if she hears us talking so long. So you go by-by, and I will too, and we’ll plan by daylight. Good night, old girl.”
“Good night, Dollums, and I am sorry I was horrid.”