“Never mind, Dollie,” said Marion, who was not at all superstitious. “You’ll be earning six dollars a week after this, so it won’t take long to buy the new glass.”
“Oh, but I’m to save every penny to buy my trousseau,” said Dollie, brightening. “You keep forgetting, Marion, that I’m going to be married.”
“There is little danger of her forgetting it while you are around, Dimples,” said Miss Allyn, laughing. “You take pains to remind her of it every fifteen minutes.”
“Here comes Mr. Colebrook,” was Dollie’s whispered reply. “Quick, come out in the kitchen with me, Marion, so we won’t interrupt the lovers.”
“Nonsense!” cried Miss Allyn, as she darted toward the kitchen. “I’ll go out there myself and see if he misses me.”
Dollie followed her into the kitchen of the little flat and closed the door softly, leaving Marion alone in their pretty parlor.
“Oh, all alone, Miss Marlowe,” was Mr. Colebrook’s greeting. “Well, for once in my life I am deucedly lucky.”
Marion looked up in surprise, but controlled her feelings wonderfully. It had popped into her head to test her friend’s lover a little.
“Why do you think yourself lucky in finding me alone,” she asked, archly, as she went on arranging the furniture.
“Because you are the sweetest girl that I ever met,” was the astonishing reply, “and I am lucky in having a chance to say so.”