“I’ve done that already,” was Bert’s prompt reply. “You didn’t suppose I’d let her hear it second-hand, did you? And, by the way, Dollie, I’ve got a secret for your ears. It has just come to me lately, and I’m as happy as a lark. I’m going straight ahead to make love to Marion. She’s the dearest girl I know, and I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
“Oh, Bert!”
This was all that Dollie could say. She was quite overcome with astonishment at this matter-of-fact announcement.
“Well, why shouldn’t I,” asked Bert, in an injured tone. “Of course I don’t expect her to marry me now, but as soon as I am educated and have plenty of ‘dough’ I don’t see any reason why she shouldn’t like me.”
Dollie Marlowe burst out laughing, in spite of Bert’s seriousness.
“But don’t you know that Marion has two lovers already?” she asked, gayly. “Why, she’ll have time to marry both of them before you are old enough to ask her.”
“I’m as old as she is, and I’ll take chances on that,” said Bert, coolly; “but I say, Dollie, who the mischief is this bald-headed old duffer?”
“Hush!” whispered the girl in horror, as she saw who was coming. “That is Mr. Atherton, my honorable employer.”
“Honorable fiddlesticks!” said Bert, staring straight at the gentleman. “Look out for him, Dollie; I don’t like his style. He’s too smooth to be real healthy, and you know I must protect you, if you are going to be my sister.”