“I had an invitation this afternoon and I sort of suspect you had, too. Did you?”
“Why—I don’t know. I’m not sure just what you mean. Perhaps I would have had one if I hadn’t had to rush for a car and get home. Mother was invited out for dinner and I cooked ours.”
“Oh, did you? I wish I knew how! Well, I just have to see you some way. Could you leave for just a little while if I drove over for you!”
“I’ll ask. I’ve lessons well enough up, I suppose. I got most of them at school, and if you’re thinking of the same thing I am, I’d surely like to talk it over with you. Hold the wire a moment.”
Betty tiptoed back, hoping that Amy Lou hadn’t gotten to the stage when it was best not to rouse her from her sleepiness. But she heard her childish conversation with her father and went near the door. “Father, excuse me, but Carolyn wants to know if I can drive over with her if she comes for me. We have—something to decide and it’s—important.”
“Is she driving, this late?”
“Oh, no. She wouldn’t be allowed. She will be driven.”
“Very well, then, but do not stay late.”
“No. I have my lessons pretty well, Father.”
Betty reported the favorable answer and it was not long before she and Carolyn were in secret conference in Carolyn’s pretty room. Carolyn put Betty in the gay chaise lounge that was her own, drew up a big chair for herself and established a little “end table” between them. On this reposed a box of taffies and a plate of apples.