“Yes,” David was saying, “he is going to take me up to their camp. His father and mother are in Seattle, you know.”
“M-h’m,” she bowed. “How long you going to stay?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t set any time.”
“It’ll be great, won’t it?” Polly smiled in her friendliest way.
He nodded gravely, slipping abruptly into complaint.
“You do not like Converse. You have never taken the trouble to know him.”
The girl’s eyes twinkled. “I certainly ought to adore him,” she said; “it is the first time you ever wanted me to look at any boy except Your Royal Highness.”
“Oh, you don’t understand!” sighed David.
“I am always wondering,” Polly went on, a tiny scowl wrinkling her smooth forehead, “how it is that Converse happens to attract you.”
“He is a good fellow,” said David positively. “But he has no stock of prittle-prattle.”