"Well, so are you," he answered. They walked down the platform together, and she saw that he carried a new suitcase, and that even his shoes were new and shining. However, these details were somewhat offset by her perception that he was feeling awkward, too.
"Where shall we go?" They hesitated, looking at each other, and in their smile the strangeness vanished.
"I don't care. Anywhere, if you're along," he said. "Oh, Helen, it sure is great to see you again! You look like a million dollars, too." His approving eye was upon her new clothes.
"I'm glad you like them," she said, radiant. "That's an awfully nice suit, Paul." Happiness came back to her in a flood and putting out her hand, she picked a bit of thread from his dear sleeve. "Well, where shall we go?"
"We'll get something to eat first," he said practically. "I'm about starved, aren't you?" She had not thought of eating.
They breakfasted in a little restaurant on waffles and sausages and coffee. The hot food was delicious, and the waiter in the soiled white apron grinned understandingly while he served them. Paul gave him fifteen cents, in an off-hand manner, and she thrilled at his careless prodigality and his air of knowing his way about.
The whole long day lay before them, bright with limitless possibilities. They left the suitcase with the cashier of the restaurant and walked slowly down the street, embarrassed by the riches of time that were theirs. Helen suggested that they walk awhile in the capitol grounds; she had supposed they would do that, and perhaps in the afternoon enjoy a car-ride to Oak Park. But Paul dismissed these simple pleasures with a word.
"Nothing like that," he said. "I want a real celebration, a regular blow-out. I've been saving up for it a long time." He struggled with this conscience. "It won't do any harm to miss church one Sunday. Let's take a boat down the river."
"Oh, Paul!" She was dazzled. "But—I don't know—won't it be awfully expensive?"
"I don't care how much it costs," he replied recklessly. "Come on. It'll be fun."