“Have one, Doro?” The latter shook her head. She was too full of anxiety for Joe and the dear ones at home to think about anything else.
The Major had seemed very frail that morning when he had said good-bye, but there had been an eager light in his eyes that she understood only too well. He had been thinking that the next time he saw his daughter, Joe might be with her.
And Joe would be with her! Dorothy’s chin went up and her eyes gleamed in a manner curiously suggestive of the Major in the days when the success of the Bugle meant everything to him.
“Good gracious, Doro, don’t look like that!” cried Tavia, happening that moment to glance at her chum. “You remind me of bulldogs and prize fighters and other pugnacious animals.”
“How extremely complimentary you are,” laughed Dorothy. “I’ll have you know that though I can’t get over the fact that I’m an animal, I’m not pugnacious.”
“Far be it from me to contradict a lady,” retorted Tavia. “But if you could have seen yourself at that moment, Doro, I am sure you wouldn’t blame me.”
“Glad I didn’t then,” replied Dorothy a trifle crossly. “It must be an awful bore to see yourselves as others see you.”
“Well, take off your hat, anyway,” advised Tavia irrelevantly. “We have quite a little ride before us, you know.”
“As if I hadn’t lain awake all night thinking of that!” cried Dorothy. “And every minute of the journey will seem like an hour.”
“Now who is being uncomplimentary?” chuckled Tavia. “You must expect to enjoy your company.”