“Dorinda Fayre, you’re a hummer!” was Bert’s comment, and he sat down on the edge of his bed, and looked at his sister. “What do you s’pose dad would say if he knew?”
“He mustn’t know. But, it isn’t wrong, is it?”
“Why, no, I don’t say it’s wrong, exactly, but it’s—why, Doll, it’s crazy! That’s what it is, crazy!”
“I don’t care how crazy it is, if it works. Why, Bert, anybody can go to Buffalo as well as for us to go. And probably the other man wants to go, and father doesn’t. And I don’t, and Trudy doesn’t—”
“Does Trudy know of your stroke of state?”
“No, indeed. She’d tell, and dad and mother might put a stop to it. Now, Bert, you’ll help me, won’t you?”
Dolly had the whip hand, and she knew it. Bert was very proud of his pretty sister, and as she smiled winsomely, in all the bravery of her party array, he hadn’t the heart to refuse her. Moreover, though he was amazed at her daring project, it seemed to him possible, owing to Mr. Forbes’ indulgence of his daughter’s whims.
“Why, of course, Dollops, I’ll do whatever I can—”
“Oh, you dear old Bert! I was so afraid you wouldn’t! You can do such heaps, you know! Now, let’s start, and you must just remember every minute at the party, that you’re booming Bernice. Get the boys to show her attentions, but don’t for goodness’ sake, let them know what you’re up to!”
“Dollydoodle! Do you think I’m a ninny! Don’t tell me how to conduct this publicity campaign! Give me credit for a grain of sense,—and leave all to me!”