Donald changed position, looked thoughtfully at Betty, and smiled as he replied, “I think a good deal of your advice, but I must go.”
“It will not hinder your going. And even if you do go later without the consent of your family, it will be different from not even having written!” Thus persuaded Betty.
“If I wait, may I have a picture of you, Betty, to take with me?”
Betty flushed a little as she replied, “Why, yes, you may, if you want one. If you come over again, I’ll bring down what I have, big pictures and snapshots, and you can take your choice. You would want a small picture, wouldn’t you?”
“I would,” said Donald, patting his left hand pocket, while Betty blushed again. “All right, I’ll wait and write to mother, and will you let me come over on Saturday afternoon to tell you the results? And perhaps you could have the pictures ready, too. Will that do?”
“Of course it will do. I’m so glad, Donald! It will be much better. Your mother will feel so much better about it.”
“Someway, Betty, I don’t feel in quite so much of a hurry to leave when I’m with you,” said the frank Donald, “I’ll have one more good Saturday afternoon with you, and perhaps, if it is not stormy, we can have a boat ride. Can you get permission?”
“I’ll ask. There are the girls, Donald; look out of the window.”
Cathalina, Lilian and Hilary were passing, coming from the direction of the little wood on the hill, and waved their field glasses gayly as Betty tapped on the window.
“Did you say that Captain Van Horne is leaving soon? I wonder if Cathalina knows.”