“Glad you think so. Hasn’t been re-decorated or fixed up since my wife died. Guess I’ll have to furbish it up a little if Bernie is going to be in gay society.”
“She surely is. You can’t keep such a pretty girl all to yourself always, Mr. Forbes.”
“No, I s’pose not—I s’pose not. Well, I want her to enjoy herself. She’s like her mother. Her mother was a great one for gaiety. Run along, now, Miss Dolly, and join your young friends. You mustn’t be wasting time on an old man like me.”
Dolly smiled at him, and then went over to the group already forming around Bernice.
But she had a new bee in her bonnet. Nothing more nor less than to make friends with Mr. Forbes himself, and if need be, plead with him for her father’s stay in Berwick. Dolly’s was a single-minded nature. She had set her heart and mind to this plan of hers and she bent everything toward her aim. Buoyed up with hope, she came laughingly toward the young people.
“Ah, there, Dolly Fayre,” sang out Tad Brown, “thought you had deserted us.”
“No, indeed! I’m helping Bernice receive,—that’s why I spend my time talking to her father,” and Dolly laughed whimsically.
Gay as a butterfly, she smiled and chatted with everybody, but also kept a strict watch over her helpers in the game. Nor was she disappointed. In a moment, she heard Bert and Bob both pleading with Bernice for the first dance.
“You must give it to me,” said Bert, “ ’cause I’m Dolly’s pet brother.”
“But I’m Dotty’s ditto,” urged Bob. “And besides, I’m a much better dancer than Bert Fayre.”