"Cream," suggested Vicky, her eyes gleaming with delight at the tempting prospect; "strawberries are nothing without cream."
"Of course," Geoff went on. "I was going to say cream, when you interrupted me. We'd have a cream-cow, Vicky."
"A cream-cow," Vicky repeated. "What's that?"
"Oh, I don't know exactly. But one often reads of a milk-cow, so I supposed there must be some cows that are all for cream, if some are for milk. I'll find out all about it when——" But he stopped short. "Never mind, Vicky. When I have a little farm of my own, in the country, I promise you I'll send for you to come and live with me."
"But you'll invite mamma and Elsa, and Francie too, Geoff; I wouldn't care to come without them," objected Vicky.
"Mamma; oh yes, if she likes to come. Perhaps Elsa and Frances will be married, and have houses of their own by then. I'm sure I hope so."
He had talked himself and Vicky into quite good spirits by this time. He was almost forgetting about his plan of running away. But it was soon recalled to him. Elsa put her head in at the door.
"Vicky," she said, "you may come up to see mamma for a few minutes. Come now, quick, before Geoff comes home, or else he will begin about it again, and he just must not see her for some days. Mamma sees that he must not."
Geoff's face grew dark.
"Elsa," Vicky called out appealingly. But Elsa had already disappeared.