“Here he comes! Now you say it to him.”
“Oh, Gloria, please!” fluttered Millie, looking for a way to escape. “I’ve got to go.”
“You can’t, wait until you hear his velvet voice,” laughed Gloria mockingly.
“Honestly, Glo, I promised mother I’d go right back. She’s doing up crab apple—”
Gloria put a firm hand on the round arm. “You’ve got to stay,” she insisted. “Think I’m going to take care of—of anything like that all alone?”
A moment later “that” was on the porch and both girls waited expectantly. Millie was not alone in her conscious flushing.
He was fine looking, not handsome but scholarly, and he did have a velvet voice.
Without the least hint of embarrassment he advanced to the doorway already blocked by Gloria, while Millie merely peeked over her shoulder.
“I hope I’m not too early,” he said simply, “but mother wanted me to hand you this note— Miss—”
“Gloria,” said the girl in the doorway.