“Let’s all go,” proposed Tavia, glad to be in anything active that would occupy her mind and perhaps would push out certain unpleasant thoughts that lodged there.
“Mr. Knapp has no skates,” said Dorothy, softly.
“Don’t let that stop you,” the Westerner put in, smiling. “I can go and look on.”
“Oh, I guess we can give you a look in,” said Ned. “There’s Nat’s skates. I think he didn’t take ’em with him.”
“Will they fit Mr. Knapp?” asked Tavia.
“Dead sure that nobody’s got a bigger foot than old Nat,” said his brother wickedly. “If Mr. Knapp can get into my coat, he’ll find no trouble in getting into Nat’s shoes.”
Ned rather prided himself on his own small and slim foot and often took a fling at the size of his brother’s shoes. But now, Nat not being present, he hoped to “get a rise” out of Tavia. The girl, however, bit her lip and said nothing. She was not even defending Nat these days.
It was concluded that all should go—that is, all the young people then present. Nat and Jennie’s absence made what Ned called “a big hole” in the company.
“You be good to me, Dot,” he said to his cousin, as they waited in the side hall for Tavia to come down. “I’m going to miss Jennie awfully. I want to skate with you and tell you all about it.”
“All about what?” demanded his cousin, laughing.