Hardly knowing if he were acting wisely, Alan took the reins and sat down by Dolly.
Adele stepped up behind to say good-bye to Dolly, and they kissed each other. It was barely audible, and yet it reached the ears of the restive horses and they bounded away like the wind.
“A peculiar way to start horses,” Alan laughed.
“A pleasant way,” she said. “Your sister is a dear, dear girl.”
Then he told her his fears in regard to what her father would think of his driving with her.
“He's out of town to-day,” she answered, with a frank upward glance, “and mother wouldn't care.”
“Then I'm going to enjoy it fully,” he said. “I've been dying to see you, Dolly.”
“And do you suppose I haven't wanted to see you? When Mr. Miller proposed this just now it fairly took my breath away. I was afraid you might happen not to be around the hotel. Oh, there is so much I want to say—and so little time.”
“When I'm with you I can' t talk,” he said. “It seems, in some way, to take up time like the ticking of a clock. I simply want to close my eyes, and—be with you, Dolly—YOU.”
“I know, but we must be practical, and think of the future. Mr. Miller tells me there is a chance for your big scheme to succeed. Oh, if it only would!”