“Say, don’t I get in that game?” he wanted to know.
“If you wish,” said Aurora, throwing him a coquettish glance.
“No indeed!” laughed Dorothy. “Gentlemen are entirely excluded.” She turned to her girl friend. “How well you are looking! And what a pretty dress!”
“Do you like it, Dorothy? Mamma had it made for me last week. At first it didn’t please me—the the front of the waist is so crazy with its pleats and frills.”
“Oh, that’s what I liked about it—what first caught my eye. It’s odd, but very, very pretty.”
“Excuse me!” murmured Jim. “The conversation grows uninteresting,” and turning his back, he walked off down the lawn. He cast a laughing glance over his shoulder an instant later, however, shaking his head as if to say, “Girls will be girls.”
“Come into the house, Aurora, and tell me about yourself. What has happened in old Baltimore since I’ve been gone? Really, Aunt Betty and I have been too busy arranging for my music lessons, and with various and sundry other things to have a good old-time chat.”
“Things have been rather dull here. Gerald and I went with papa and mamma to the theaters twice a week last winter, with an occasional matinée by ourselves, but aside from that, life has been very dull in Baltimore—that is, until the auto came a few weeks since. Now we take a ‘joy’ ride every afternoon, with an occasional evening thrown in for good measure.”
“I am anxious to see your car, Aurora.”
“And I am anxious to have you see it.”