“You ought to go on the stage, Bert!” cried Dollie, as she shook with laughter. “You’d make a splendid comedian. Oh, you are just too funny!”
“That’s what I call ‘up-to-date’ criticism,” said Bert, a little disdainfully. “Right in the middle of my best tragedy she calls me ‘funny!’”
“But you certainly would make a splendid actor, Bert,” repeated Miss Allyn. “Do let me help you to get an engagement.”
“The governor—I mean my newly acquired pop—wouldn’t hear of it,” said Bert. “He is going to take me on a trip through Canada in a day or two, then abroad for the summer, and goodness knows where else, and then in the fall I go to college to be fitted for the ministry, or something.”
There was another shout over Bert’s remarks. The idea of his even being a minister was the most amusing thing yet.
“Well, if you were only ordained I would give you a job at once,” said Ralph Moore, quickly, “for I am trying to get Dollie to marry me to-morrow.”
“Why not to-morrow?” asked Dr. Brookes, gayly. “Both Miss Marlowe and I are on leave of absence! Oh, Dollie, you must be married to-morrow!”
“Of course you can, sister, dear,” said Marion, going over to her. “There’s no reason in the world why you should wait any longer.”
“I’ll go straight out and find you a flat,” chimed in Miss Allyn, “and you can both stay right here until we get it furnished.”
“Then that is settled,” said Bert, who seemed to be especially anxious, “and there’ll be one big weight off my mind, I can tell you!”