“Not a bit!” said Billy calmly. “I’m all right. But”—Billy’s eyes twinkled—“don’t you really think you ought to wear your tuxedo, old fellow? Much more correct, you know. I saw it in a Hints to Best Dressers’ column awhile ago. It said that no true gentleman was without evening clothes in the evening.”
Tom looked uneasy, but he was firm.
“I won’t get into that thing for anything less than a dance or a hand-made clerical dinner,” he said, thoughtlessly jamming his hat down over one ear the way he usually wore it, then putting it straight with a jerk. “Great Scott! I must hurry!”
“My ears and whiskers! The Duchess! Won’t I catch it if I’m late!” quoted Louise scornfully from Alice in Wonderland, as Tom dived down the steps.
“What on earth’s got into Tom!” asked Billy. “The idea of doing that because you like it!”
“I don’t know,” said Winona. “It is queer, isn’t it?”
“Going off acting like he was all grown up!” mused Billy, still lost in wonder at such a waste of a perfectly good evening.
“I do wish you wouldn’t always say ‘like’ for ‘as if,’ Billy,” interrupted Louise sharply. “I hate it.”
“We always say it that way down home,” said Billy.
“That’s no reason for your doing it here! Being born in China doesn’t make it good manners for you to eat with chopsticks,” said Louise, walking into the house and slamming the screen-door behind her.