Not satisfied with merely the day with Linda, Harry tried to date her for the evening.
“Will you go to the tennis matches with me after dinner?” he asked. “At the Club, I mean. You’re not in them by any chance?”
“Oh, no, I’m not nearly good enough. I was beaten early in the tournament. But Dot Crowley’s in the finals, and so is Jim Valier.”
“They always were good. Well, how about it, Linda? I’ll get a taxi, if Tom doesn’t offer me his car. They’ll probably go over in Kit’s.”
“Thank you, Harry, but I think I better not make any plans until I see what Aunt Emily and Amy are doing. I left them last night—and I want to be with them to-night. So you go with Tom and Kit, and if I can, I’ll see you there.”
“And promise me at least two dances?”
“Oh, certainly,” she agreed.
Fifteen minutes later she parked her car in the garage behind the bungalow, and ran in to see what success Amy and her aunt had had. The girl was dressed in everything new from head to foot; her hair, too, had been cut and waved becomingly. She was dancing around the living room in excited happiness. All her cares were forgotten for the time being, in the joy her new clothing afforded her.
“Don’t I look wonderful, Linda?” she cried. “Like a different girl? Miss Carlton has been a real fairy godmother!”
“You certainly do, Amy! Oh, Aunt Emily always knows just the right things to buy!”