“For what?” cried Doodles, curiosity suddenly thwarting his determination to appear blind to all mysterious doings. But he gained nothing.
“Oh, a little business, kiddie!” Blue answered in what was meant to be a careless tone, but which went wide of its aim and only mystified Doodles to a high degree.
When he returned home, his mother had an immediate errand in the kitchen, where he at once joined her, leaving the small boy to speculate on the possible import of the trip.
Afterwards Blue had several telephone messages, which he answered only by pleased phrases, which meant nothing to the listener.
It was a tantalizing, bewitching forenoon, full of the wildest anticipations and the joyfulest hopes.
Soon after dinner Mrs. Stickney suggested that Doodles go upstairs and have a nap; so, although he was not a bit sleepy, he went without a word, guessing that they wished him out of the way. He had made up his mind that the Flemings were going to have a party in the evening, to which they were invited; yet why so much mystery about it? He was no sooner established on his little bed than he heard doors opening and shutting downstairs, and the sound of men’s feet and men’s voices. He was sure, too, that Eudora Fleming was there. All this pushed away his conjecture about the party. He gave up trying to guess.
After a while there was less bustle below, and Doodles shut his eyes. It was quite dusky when he opened them. Blue was there.
“Hello, kiddie!”
“Hello!” laughed Doodles. “I went to sleep after all. I thought I shouldn’t.”
“Good thing! You’ll feel livelier this evening.”