"Dr. Anthony cured it. I was able to fly yesterday over the harbor. When are you going to fly with me?"
"Never." Bettina shivered with apprehension.
"Oh, but you'd like it," broke in Bobbie, eagerly. "I've been up with him, and it's like floating on a sea of sunshine. I give you my word the sensation is delightful."
Justin said no more on the subject. He could wait, but some day he was going to fly with this little golden girl. He wondered who had been inspired to dress her in that white and amethyst combination. She was as flower-like as the lilacs themselves—she belonged to them; she was exquisite.
He walked beside her, content to let Bobbie monopolize the conversation, which was unusual, for Justin liked to be the center of things. He had always been the center of things, and he was not diffident, as a rule, in his approaches toward friendship.
"The funny thing about this place," Bobbie was saying, "is that you have to pass the kitchen door to get to the front. When I was a little boy Delia used to roll out cookies on that table by the window, and I'd sit on the step and wait for them."
"Delia's a dear," said Bettina. "I fell in love with her the minute I came. And I fell in love with Peter."
Peter, hearing his name, jumped down from the stone wall, where he had been watching the robins, and again joined them.
"Peter and I are old friends," said Bobbie, and stopped to pet him.
"So you are going to stay with Diana?" Justin asked.