“I thought,” said Miss Herrick, “that you were going on the Ridgeways' yachting party this afternoon. Mrs. Ridgeway said she was counting on you. They are going out with the 'Petrel.'”
“She didn't count above a hundred, though,” answered Wilbur. “I got your bid first, so I regretted the yachting party; and I guess I'd have regretted it anyhow,” and he grinned at her over his cup.
“Nice man,” she said—adding on the instant, “I must go now, Ross.”
“Wait till I eat the sugar out of my cup,” complained Wilbur. “Tell me,” he added, scraping vigorously at the bottom of the cup with the inadequate spoon; “tell me, you're going to the hoe-down to-night?”
“If you mean the Assembly, yes, I am.”
“Will you give me the first and last?”
“I'll give you the first, and you can ask for the last then.”
“Let's put it down; I know you'll forget it.” Wilbur drew a couple of cards from his case.
“Programmes are not good form any more,” said Miss Herrick.
“Forgetting a dance is worse.”