XIV.
"My cousin Bob's awfully gone on you."
Laura gaped at Tilly, in crimson disbelief. "But I've never spoken to him!"
"Doesn't count. He's seen you in church."
"Go on!—you're stuffing."
"Word of honour!—And I've promised him to ask aunt if I can bring you with me to lunch next Saturday."
Laura looked forward to this day with mixed feelings. She was flattered at being invited to the big house in town where Tilly's relatives lived; but she felt embarrassed at the prospect, and she had not the least idea what a boy who was "gone" on you would expect you to be or to do. Bob was a beautiful youth of seventeen, tall, and dark, and slender, with milk-white teeth and Spanish eyes; and Laura's mouth dried up when she thought of perhaps having to be sprightly or coquettish with him.
On the eventful morning Tilly came to her room while she was dressing, and eyed her critically.
"Oh, I say, don't put on that brown hat ... for mercy's sake! Bob can't stand brown."