There were some exquisite bits of undecorated china for Dorothy to add to her collection of hand-painted pieces, there was a “darling” little traveling mirror from Mrs. Markin, and Jack, who would not be left out in spite of his sister’s protestations that a strange young man could not give a young lady a present even if it was a sort of souvenir of Buffalo, had made Rose-Mary place on the table with the other tokens a cute little pocket camera. He secretly hoped his sister would just hint to Dorothy that he had selected it.
Such an array quite overpowered Dorothy and she threw her arms about Rose-Mary’s neck and cried as if her heart would break.
She calmed down after a while, but even when she and Rose-Mary were dressed the two had little spells of weeping at the thought of parting. Jack peeped in at the door, but when he saw his sister and Dorothy in an embrace, with tears in their eyes, he hurried away, muttering something about “fool girls crying when they’re happy,” and he “guessed he wouldn’t hang around to spoil their fun, if that was what they called a merry time.”
So the two girls were left to themselves to exchange confidences and talk over their fall meeting at Glenwood when school should begin again.
Time managed to slip around quickly that day, and, when afternoon came, Dorothy began to get nervous about her prospective visit to the manager’s office. It would surely seem rude to leave Rose-Mary alone, but nothing must deter her from carrying out her plan—no, not even the displeasure of her friends, and this was no small matter to Dorothy when she faced it—she who made such firm friendships when she did make them, and who was always an example of good breeding and politeness.
When her valise had been packed, so that the entire evening might be left for pleasure, and Nat and Ned had appeared from their quarters to make final arrangements about coming for Dorothy directly after breakfast, she glanced at her watch and found it lacked just half an hour of five o’clock! The boys were engaged in an argument with Rose-Mary, as to the relative beauty of Boston and New York, Ned holding that a Battery and a Bowery made New York the winner.
Suddenly Dorothy jumped up from the porch chair where she had been sitting.
“I believe I’ll just run down town to get some more souvenir postal cards,” she said bravely, as she started to leave the veranda. She had her purse in her hand, and there was no need to wear a hat.
“Why?” asked Cologne in natural surprise. “I thought you had plenty.”
Nat saw the flush of color that came into Dorothy’s cheeks.