"What ails Uncle?" said Alicia, pettishly. "Anybody'd think he had a joke on us."
"No," Dotty rejoined, "only he's sort of old, you know, and he doesn't see the fun in this, as we do."
"Well, I wish the fun would hurry up! It's after four now."
"Such people are never on time," said Alicia, with a great air of experience. "He's sure to be late. Oh, there's the bell now!"
The girls, with hearts beating high, grouped themselves in a picturesque pose, which they had practised beforehand, and breathlessly watched the doorway.
Through it came, in a moment, a jolly-faced man, with an informal manner and pleasant smile.
"Hullo, girlies," he said, "what's up? Expecting a party? Well, I won't keep you a minute. Where's Mr. Forbes?"
"Why, you're the party, Mr. Coriell," said Alicia, stepping forward to greet him, and looking very coquettish as she smiled up into his face.
"Oh, am I! all right, have it your own way, kiddies. But I can't give you more than ten minutes of my valuable time. What do you want? Autographs? Or tickets for a box? Speak up, now."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Bernice, for Alicia was speechless with disappointment at this prosaic attitude on the part of the visitor. "We just want to—to talk to you."