“We are all going skating on Jamaica Pond. Nobody has skated for so long here that it is a novelty. I used to be so fond of it.”
“We always skate at home, when there is ice,” said Joe. “It will be enchanting though, with the full moon and all. What time?”
“Mrs. Sam Wyndham will arrange that,” said Sybil. “She is going to matronize us.”
“How dreadful, to have to be chaperoned!” ejaculated Joe. “But Mrs. Wyndham is very jolly after all, so it does not much matter.”
“I believe they used to have Germans here without any mothers,” remarked Sybil, “but they never do now.”
“Poor little things, how awfully lonely for them!” laughed Joe.
“Who?”
“The Germans–without their mothers. Oh, I forgot the German was the cotillon. You mean cotillons, without tapestry, as we say.”
“Yes, exactly. But about the skating party. It will be very select, you know; just ourselves. You know I never go out,” Sybil added rather sadly, “but I do love skating so.”
“Who are ’ourselves’–exactly?”