“Not half so much as I shall,” Hal voiced frank regret. “Marjorie is a real pal. I’m going to miss her at every turn and corner. I’m going to annex myself to the Armitage family and become a pest after Marjorie goes.”
“Go as far as you like, old man,” Laurie invited. “Connie and I will do our best to amuse and cherish you.”
“Cherish! Ah-h-h!” gurgled Danny who had just come up with Jerry. “Such a sweet word! Did anybody ever hear Jurry-miar say it to me?” He rolled his eyes and clasped his hands. “Silence? What? Don’t all speak at once. No? I thought not.”
“No one ever will hear me say it to you,” Jerry told him in a tired tone.
“How ought I to receive such a remark?” Danny eyed her dubiously. “Answer me, Jurry-miar.” He leaned far forward and stared fixedly at Jerry.
Her stolid expression deserted her. She had to laugh at the ludicrous set of Danny’s freckled features. “Oh, never mind,” she conceded. “Let’s be amiable to each other for ten minutes. I’ll hold the stop watch.”
“U-h-h-h!” Danny simulated collapse. “This is so unexpected. Hurry up, gang. Let’s go to the palm grotto for ices. If we hustle, Jur—I mean, Geraldine and I can sit at the same table without snapping at each other. Come, boys,” he beckoned grandly to Hal and Laurie. “Gentlemen will be treated to ices as well as ladies. Think of that!” He smirked patronizingly at the two young men.
“I oughtn’t linger longer,” gaily demurred Marjorie. “Truly, Danny, I——”
She went to the palm grotto, however, marched there between Hal and Danny. During the enjoyable half hour the young people spent over the ices Hal was his usual jolly, light-hearted self. Marjorie welcomed the change in him from sombre seriousness to his old care-free manner. When she left him with a friendly good night at the door of the Dean’s apartment she could have almost believed him to be the Hal of her high school days, had not the memory of his earnest words flashed across her brain. She could still hear him saying: “I’ve wished always that it would be so with you and me,” in the eager, impassioned fashion which awoke no responsive echo in her heart.
She stepped into the living room her usually bright face so pre-occupied that it at once caught Mrs. Dean’s attention as she smilingly glanced up from the magazine she held.