He told them that he had come to take them to drive in Central Park, and a few minutes after they were rolling rapidly out toward that beautiful spot, behind a pair of handsome bays.
That evening, just before it was time for Bertha to retire, she stole softly to Violet's side, wound her arms about her neck, and, peering eagerly into her face, shyly remarked:
"Miss Huntington, your eyes do not look 'sorry' tonight."
"No, indeed, dear; they ought to look very bright and happy, after such a delightful day as we have had," Violet answered.
"It has been a good day, hasn't it?" Bertha questioned, laying her head fondly on her teacher's shoulder.
"Yes, and all days will be 'good days,' if we do right," was the gentle response, as Violet passed her arm around the child and drew her closer to her.
"I wonder, Miss Huntington, if you will get to love me by and by," Bertha said, wistfully, after a little pause.
"I love you now, dear," was the sweet-voiced assurance.
"Truly."
"Yes, truly and dearly," and a soft kiss emphasized the statement.