“Well, why shouldn’t you be in society?” asked Marion, after a pause. “You have plenty of money, and that seems to be nearly all that is needed.”
“Oh, you ought to have a pedigree like a trotter to be real, dead swell,” said Bert, quickly, “and I’m only an orphan brought up on a poor farm!”
“This society business just makes me sick! I’ve been in it a month, and I’m ready to graduate any minute.”
“They are not all bad, thank Heaven!” said Marion, soberly. “I suppose the percentage of goodness is about the same in all classes. But tell me, Bert, what are your plans for the future? You know, Dollie and I are your sisters, and we shall always be interested.”
“Look here, Marion!” said Bert, jumping up and facing her. “I don’t object to calling Dollie any old thing you like, but you can’t play the sister racket on me, for I’m fully determined to marry you some day!”
“Oh, Bert! How ridiculous you are!” said the fair girl, laughing.
“Promise me that you will not say ‘yes’ to anybody for a year. Do promise, Marion. It will make me perfectly happy.”
Marion looked at him sharply to see if he was in earnest. Just at that minute Dollie came to the rescue.
“Why, Bert, how foolish of you!” she exclaimed, with great wisdom. “If sister cares for you she does not need to promise, and if she doesn’t, why, of course, you don’t want her to promise.”
“I guess that’s right,” said the lad, growing thoughtful. “They say love is like lightning—it goes where ’tis sent—so, if that’s the case, there’s no use in my trying to control it.”