“Don’t you mean to let me go? Come, now, I think you are real rude, Frank,” pouted the young lady from New York.
“Let you go? I am sure I shall not prevent you from going.”
“What do you mean, then?”
“Didn’t you say just now that you were tired almost to death? that you were never so tired in your life before?”
“I was; but I feel rested now.”
“You got over it very quick.”
“Are you going, Josey?” asked Flora, as she returned to the room.
“To be sure, I am.”
“Well, we are all ready. It is ten o’clock now, and father said John might go with us at that time,” said Frank, moving towards the door.
“I am ready,” replied Flora, who had brought her rubbers in from the entry.