“Yes,” she persisted; “and we must do them. You must go to those ladies you disappointed so this morning, and apologise—explain.”
Dan laughed. “Why, it wasn't such a very ironclad engagement as all that, Alice. They said they were going to drive out to Cambridge over the Milldam, and I said I was going out there to get some of my traps together, and they could pick me up at the Art Museum if they liked. Besides, how could I explain?”
She laughed consciously with him. “Of course. But,” she added ruefully, “I wish you hadn't disappointed them.”
“Oh, they'll get over it. If I hadn't disappointed them, I shouldn't be here, and I shouldn't like that. Should you?”
“No; but I wish it hadn't happened. It's a blot, and I didn't want a blot on this day.”
“Oh, well, it isn't very much of a blot, and I can easily wipe it off. I'll tell you what, Alice! I can write to Mrs. Frobisher, when our engagement comes out, and tell her how it was. She'll enjoy the joke, and so will Miss Wrayne. They're jolly and easygoing; they won't mind.”
“How long have you known them?”
“I met them on Class Day, and then I saw them—the day after I left Campobello.” Dan laughed a little.
“How, saw them?”
“Well, I went to a yacht race with them. I happened to meet them in the street, and they wanted me to go; and I was all broken up, and—I Went.”