“Nonsense! She doesn't refuse, does she?”
“Oh, no; she doesn't refuse—but she doesn't accept either, exactly, as I can see. I've read the letter over twice, too. I'll let you judge for yourself by and by, when you have time to read it.”
Billy laughed.
“Never mind. I don't want to read it. She's just a little shy about coming, that's all. She'll stay all right, when we come to meet her. What time did you say it was, Thursday?”
“Half past four, South Station.”
“Thursday, at half past four. Let me see—that's the day of the Carletons' 'At Home,' isn't it?”
“Oh, my grief and conscience, yes! But I had forgotten it. What shall we do?”
“Oh, that will be easy. We'll just go to the Carletons' early and have John wait, then take us from there to the South Station. Meanwhile we'll make sure that the little blue room is all ready for her. I put in my white enamel work-basket yesterday, and that pretty little blue case for hairpins and curling tongs that I bought at the fair. I want the room to look homey to her, you know.”
“As if it could look any other way, if you had anything to do with it,” sighed Aunt Hannah, admiringly.
Billy laughed.