“I feel like the most selfish of mortals in comparison,” replied Tavia. “Such goodness as hers is not common, I’m sure.”
A jingling of musical bells announced breakfast, and to further impress the fact upon the family, every young person banged on the other one’s bedroom door, and the noise for a few minutes was deafening.
“Now, Tavia, please,” pleaded Dorothy, as she hurriedly dressed, “don’t act so to Bob! You were so contrary last evening!”
“Can’t help it,” declared Tavia. “He inspires contrariness! He’s so easy to tease!”
During the meal Tavia kept perfectly quiet, her eyes modestly downcast, and Dorothy watched her with great misgivings. Tavia was beginning the day entirely too modestly.
Another hour found the whole party on the banks of the lake in Central Park. The ice was in fine condition, and the lake as crowded as every spot in New York always seemed to be.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten the figure eight,” said Major Dale, with a laugh, as he struck out. Aunt Winnie watched him anxiously because she had less confidence in his recovery than did the major. It was great fun for Roger and Joe to skate with their father.
“Girls,” said Aunt Winnie, as she tried bravely to balance herself, “I’m really not as young as I think I am! I believe I’ll return to the car, bundle up in the fur robes and just watch.”
The girls begged her to remain. Nat and Bob, after a long run to the end of the lake, had returned, and Nat grasped Aunt Winnie suddenly. Together they started up the lake, Aunt Winnie skating as gracefully as any of the young girls. Ned was tightening Dorothy’s skates as Bob approached Tavia.
“Weren’t you surprised to see me yesterday?” Bob wanted to know. “You didn’t think I would come; did you?”