But Lydia was not to be rebuffed, and Martie was but nineteen, after all, and longing for the happiness she had denied. An hour later, all the prettier for her tears, she met Rodney at the hall door, the boy making no sign of disappointment when Lydia and Sally joined them.
"But say, Martie," he said at once, "I've got only the two seats!"
"Oh, that's all right!" Lydia said quickly and cautiously. "We don't have to SIT together!"
Martie's mood brightened and she flushed like a rose when the boy said eagerly:
"Say, listen, Martie. My sister Ida's going to-night, and one or two others, and Mrs. Cliff Frost is going to chaperon us afterward; ask your mother if that's all right."
The girl wasted no time on her mother, but crossed to the library door.
"Pa," said she without preamble, "Mrs. Cliff Frost is chaperoning some of them after the theatre tonight. Can I go?"
"Go where? Shut that door," her father said, half turning.
"Oh—I don't know; to the hotel, I suppose."
"Yes," her father said in a dry voice. "Yes," he added unwillingly. "Go ahead."