“That’s so.” Laurie spoke with more animation. “Let’s go and see, Ned.”
“I didn’t say anything about it to Miss Comfort,” observed Mrs. Deane in the tone of one asking commendation.
“Oh, no, you mustn’t,” said Polly. “If—if nothing came of it, after all, she’d be too disappointed. Laurie, if Mr. Whatshisname still insists on—on things going ahead as they are going, what will you do then?”
“Me?” Laurie regarded her unemotionally. Then he shrugged. “Why, I guess that would settle it, wouldn’t it? Isn’t anything more I could do, is there? Or any of us?”
“Oh, Laurie!” exclaimed Mae in vast disappointment. Polly, though, only laughed.
“Don’t be silly, Mae,” she said. “Of course he’s only fooling. You ought to know Laurie well enough to know that he isn’t going to give up as easily as all that. I’ll just bet you anything he knows this very minute what he means to do. Only he doesn’t want to tell us yet.”
“I don’t, either,” protested Laurie vehemently. “Look here, this isn’t any affair of mine, and—and—”
“Just what I told him,” said Mrs. Deane agreeably. “I think he’s been very nice to take such an interest and so much trouble, but I’m sure he can’t be expected to do any more, Polly.”
Polly smiled serenely. She shared the smile between her mother and a disquieted Laurie. Then she slipped an arm around Mae and gave her a squeeze. “We know, don’t we, Mae?” she asked.