Those who had seen Luna on the rare occasions when she showed anger smiled at this mild description of her appearance then.
“I don’t know as Dinah would be bothered with her, Aunt Betty, and Norah has a sick headache. But—I’ll stay and take care of her if you don’t want her to go,” said Dorothy.
It was an effort to say this and dreading that her offer might be accepted the girl turned her face away to hide her disappointment; but whatever Mrs. Calvert’s answer might have been she was not to hear it then.
Because there was Jim Barlow beckoning to her in a mysterious manner from behind a great hydrangea bush and looking vastly excited over something. So it was a relief to murmur: “Excuse me a minute, Aunt Betty,” and to respond to that summons.
“Dolly, there’s a man here wants to see you.”
“A man? To see me? and not Aunt Betty? Who is he?”
Jim answered rather impatiently to this string of questions.
“I said a man, didn’t I. He said he’d rather see you because he knows you, that is you gave him a lift on the road once in your pony cart and talked real sensible——”
“Couldn’t have meant me, then, could he, Jim?”