"Is there?" Dorothea fumed to Claudia. "I think you ought to, for
mother says Uncle Winthrop is just beginning to act like a Christian
in coming to see her regularly, and when you go he might stop acting
that way. Are you going to stay to dinner to-night?" She took
Laine's hand and intertwined her fingers in his. "Please do."

"In these clothes?"

Dorothea hesitated. "Mother wouldn't like them, but--" She jumped
up and clapped her hands in excited delight. "Mother's got a
headache and isn't coming down to-night, and if you will stay I think
she will let me take dinner with you. I hate foolishness about
clothes, and these are the becomingest ones you wear; and, besides,
at the Hunt Club you eat in them, and why can't you do it here just
once? Wouldn't it be magnificent if I could sit up?" Dorothea
whirled round and round. "Father is out of town, and Channing has a
tiny bit of cold and can't leave his room, and I'm so lonesome. Oh,
please, Uncle Winthrop, please stay!"

"Ask Miss Keith if I can stay. She may have other engagements."

"Have you?" Dorothea was on her knees by Claudia, hands on her
shoulders. "And may he stay? You won't have to change your clothes,
either. You look precious in those riding things, and, when you take
the coat off, anybody who didn't know would think you were a little
girl, the skirt is so short and skimpy; and your hair with a bow in
the back looks like me. Can't he stay, Cousin Claudia?"

"If he wants to, of course. I'm sorry your mother is sick. She
didn't tell me at lunch."