"Certainly not. Go all you please, if you won't try to drag me in!"
Louise sat down, and fingered her dress nervously. There was one more question she just had to ask.
"Linda, will you tell me the truth about this: Would you mind if I—I—cared a whole lot about Ted?"
At last Linda was interested. She closed her booklet, and turned about to face the other girl. Seeing how serious, how ardent, yet how confused Louise was, she smiled warmly.
"I think it's lovely, Lou!" she assured her. "If you really care for Ted—because I've known for months that he's head over heels in love with you. Nothing but the real thing could pull him away from his work." Her tone was that of a person much older. "I say, 'Bless you, my children!'"
Louise was at her side now, kissing her ecstatically.
"I was so desperately afraid you'd mind, Linda!"
Linda laughed at the mistake. It really was funny. Louise—usually so cocksure of herself in everything—was so modest that she couldn't see Ted's very evident admiration.
"You're a goose, Lou, but a dear, foolish goose!" Her brow suddenly darkened. "Does this mean you won't fly with me to Paris?"
"Oh, no! 'Course I'll go. I'm sure Ted wouldn't want me not to."