What perverse imp in Betty made her answer lightly:
“I have an engagement to-night, Allen.”
All at once the young lawyer looked savage. Confound that engagement!
“Betty,” he said, desperately, “I’m coming to-night anyway, and if you won’t see me I’ll camp on your doorstep till you do.”
With this threat he turned and hurried down the street, his back as stiff as a ramrod, the heavy frown still on his brow. Why, he thought, gloomily, did Betty always have to look most adorable just when she was going to be most aggravating? How was he going to keep his mind on business, anyway, when all he could think of was Betty’s face?
Meanwhile, Betty had looked musingly after his retreating figure and then, at the thought of the savage look on his face, chuckled unfeelingly. Just the same, her eyes were a little wistful as she hurried to catch up with the girls. She did wish his old business wouldn’t take up so much of his time! Maybe if he had taken up medicine, now, instead of the law—but no, that would have been worse yet. Doctors never had any time at all to themselves. She was still wondering whether she ought to see Allen that night—knowing all the time that she would not miss seeing him for the world—when the girls turned and spied her.
“Well, did we walk slowly enough?” asked Mollie, teasingly, as together they turned the corner into the street where Betty lived.
“Is he coming to-night?” added Grace, with a chuckle.
“Since I can’t answer both of you at once,” Betty retorted, “I sha’n’t answer you at all. There’s mother on the porch,” she added, to change the subject.
“And now,” sighed Grace, happily, as they turned in at the walk of Betty’s house, “just lead us to that apple pie.”