"Can you still say that?" asked she, with a sad kind of gleam in her eyes and voice.
"More than ever—more than ever!" declared he, with emphatic incoherence. And without more words he hurried down the steps, and in another minute was rattling rapidly homeward, astonishing Dolly herself by the speed which he encouraged her to put forth.
"It'll all work round," soliloquized he; "very good beginning this. If I could have spoken more explicitly—but she'll be prepared, and that's a great step toward clearing things up. Gee up! Dolly."
CHAPTER VIII.
GREAT EXPECTATIONS.
"Sophie," said Cornelia, several days afterward, "do you know, I believe I'll stay for that party at Abbie's, after all."
The two sisters were engaged in planning out an evening dress, and Sophie's bed was so covered with the confusion thereof, that her quiet little face, appearing above, looked odd by contrast.
"I'm glad," replied she, with the simplicity and lack of ornamentation that made her words forcible; "and I'm sure Abbie will be glad, too."
"There's no reason why I shouldn't, you know," resumed the elder sister, falling into that pleasing vein of argument wherein we consciously express the views of our interlocutor; "a few days won't make any difference to Aunt Margaret, and I wouldn't like to have poor old Abbie think that I slighted her, just because I am going to enter New York society! Besides, I think this dress will look very nice when it's finished—don't you?"