Page:Pratt portraits - sketched in a New England suburb (IA prattportraitssk00full).pdf/279

 "There isn't anybody else—and, besides, I like it."

"There's the usefulness cropping out again," he cried. "Good-bye."

"And weren't you a trifle professional just now," she called gayly after him.

Then she closed the door behind her, and stood in the brightly lighted 'hall, trying once more to get her bearings.

How foolish she was to be so excited and happy over a little thing. It was probably just like what was happening to other girls all the time. She had had a very pleasant evening, of course, but what of that? And there were the candles on the piano burnt down to their very sockets, and she must go directly and make a cup of tea against her mother's return.

She busied herself with this and other duties, and tried to bring herself to reason, but do what she would, think what she would, she was changed, and the next morning before breakfast she determined not to put off any longer getting herself a spring suit, even if the rest of the family were not already provided for. This, in itself, was enough to prove that a revolution had taken place in her mind. Yet so strongly did her old life-long habits assert themselves as the day wore on, that, but for an opportune catastrophe, she might again have fallen a victim to them.

The second day following her pleasant evening was a New England holiday, the 19th of April.