“No,” answered Ruth. “And that reminds me—we must ask some one for Cecile.”
“Only one person you dare ask for her,” laughed Agnes. “Telephone and tell her loving garage man, Gene Barrows, to come, Neale. Maybe he’ll bring her over in a car.”
“I will,” he promised, for the devotion to Cecile of this red-haired, but most excellent, young man was well known, and they had been engaged for some time.
“Well, I guess everything is all ready then,” remarked Ruth. “But we had better go over some matters again, Agnes, to make sure.”
“Oh, I can’t!” cried the younger sister. “I’m sure it will be all right. I’m going riding a little with Neale.”
She ran down the porch and took her place beside the high-school lad.
“You don’t mind, do you, Ruthie?” she asked pleadingly.
“Oh, no, go ahead. I can manage. Everything is practically done, anyhow. But make sure about the ice cream while you’re down town.”
“We will,” promised Neale.
“Ruth takes everything so seriously,” said Agnes, as the car was rolling down the street.