“But we are not ‘loves’ at all—Nolla and I are only good pals for the boys,” corrected Polly, anxiously.
“Whatever you call it, Jim ought to be well advised on such matters, as long as legal advice costs him nothing.”
Polly failed to follow Mr. Latimer, and he immediately changed the subject. “Now that you are here and it is lunch-hour, why not come with me. I promised to take you to the Café Savarin or the Lawyer’s Club, some day, and this is the day.”
“Oh, it would be lovely, but I just couldn’t leave Nolla out of the treat, you know!” exclaimed Polly, eagerly.
“If Nolla is at home, we will have her down in twenty minutes. We’ll wait for her, and meanwhile I’ll dictate a letter to your father for you to O.K.”
Eleanor was moping around the house, wondering where Polly could be, when the telephone rang and she was invited to join her friends at luncheon. So in less than half-an-hour the trio were having a merry time in the sumptuous private restaurant on lower Broadway.
The letter that Polly approved, reached Sam Brewster, and he showed it to his wife. “Ah have been thinking, dear, that we-all might surprise Polly by dropping in on her just about Christmas time, eh?”
“Rather than let her come West and lose all that time from classes, I should say ‘yes,’ Sam.”
“We really have nothing to tie us down at the ranch for a few weeks, unless the snow buries us for the winter.”
“Sary would be in her glory could she keep house alone with Jeb for a time. Ever since they returned from their honeymoon in Denver, she has been sighing to run the house,” said Mrs. Brewster, “feeding the fire” carefully.