"I don't believe you like flowers," Tilly said, pretending to pout.
Still John said nothing, but what astonished Cavanaugh was the fact that Tilly evidently understood his mood, for she gave a little pat to a wrinkle the pin had made in his lapel and smiled.
"I thought I heard wheels just now," she remarked. "They seemed to stop here."
"It was that fellow Eperson with his sister," John blurted out. "They came by to take you to the party. He acted like he owned you."
"Oh, it was Joel and Martha Jane!" Tilly smiled. "Oh no, he doesn't think he owns me, by any means. Martha Jane put him up to it. She and I are great friends and she was afraid I wouldn't get an escort."
John shrugged dubiously and answered: "You may look at it that way if you want to, but I see through him. I know his brand."
To Cavanaugh's wonderment, Tilly seemed pleased rather than offended, for she indulged in a little satisfied laugh.
"I suppose you told him we would be there?" she said, lightly, and it was the old man who answered, seeing that John had nothing to say.
"Yes, he knows that now, Miss Tilly, though he looked sorter set back. In my day and time about the last thing I'd want to do would be to take a sister of mine to a shindig. Going and coming was always the biggest part of the game, and you may bet there was times when I was in for busting a party up as soon as supper was over so as to be on the road again."
Tilly laughed merrily. "I'll make you a buttonhole bouquet if you will wear it," she proposed.