“But I do,” whispered Dorothy in her ear, “because I love you more than anyone else in the world.”
“Yes, dear, maybe now you do,” rejoined Aunt Betty, “but some day, some day wait and see.”
They eagerly looked at the beautiful homes, the large and handsome hotels and most of all the happy throng of people who filled the streets, remarking that they had never before seen quite so many people, each hurrying along apparently to do his or her special duty.
From Fifth avenue they went up Riverside Drive, around Grant’s Tomb. Then as the limit of time they had arranged for was nearly up they told the chauffeur to drive home, all happy and full of thoughts of the new things they had seen.
“Well, what next, Dorothy girl?” exclaimed Aunt Betty.
“Why, I don’t quite know. Let me see—just what day is this?” said Dorothy to herself. “It’s—it’s—oh, yes, it’s Friday! Oh, oh! Why we must all hurry, hurry, hurry—dress right at once.”
“Dorothy, child, what ails you?” laughed Aunt Betty. “Talking away so fast and all to yourself. Come now, tell me what you want us to dress for?”
“Why, aunty, I had most forgotten it. It’s Friday, and we promised—I mean I promised—but I forgot all about it,” continued Dorothy.
Just then Alfy interrupted. “Dorothy I am most dead with curiosity; tell us quick, please.”
“Well,” rejoined Dorothy, “it’s just this. You see, I promised—”