“Good afternoon, Miss Quincy,” he said. “I hope you have enjoyed this little sail as much as I have.”
Knowing that he had watched her ever since they started, she looked up at him with flushed inquiry.
“Yes, it was lovely,” she said.
“Come on, Lena,” exclaimed her escort, seizing her arm. “I guess we ought to hurry. There’ll be an awful crowd on the street-cars.”
“If you’ll allow me,” said Dick, “I have an automobile up near the Falls, and I’d be delighted to—”
“We come by the cars and I guess they’re good enough for us to go home by,” Mr. Nolan interrupted roughly. “We’re blocking the way here. Come, Lena.” He glowered at Dick’s lifted hat and added quite audibly: “Confound the dude! Thought he could cut in, did he?”
“Now then,” said Dick as he dropped back, “the oaf made a mistake. If he’d gracefully accepted my offer, he’d have gone up several pegs in her estimation. As it is, when her pretty little feet get trodden on by the crowd on the back platform, she will view us with regret as we whizz by. Poor little Andromeda!”
They loitered as the other “trippers”, now filled with zeal to catch the trolley, pushed past them up the glen, and soon they were practically alone. Nature reasserted her sway as though there had never been laughter and babble along the musical stream and under the over-arching trees. The friends walked more and more slowly. A white thing lay on the path before them, and Dick stooped to pick it up, while Ellery looked on with mild curiosity.
“It’s a letter, stamped and sealed.” Percival peered at it closely, for though the level sunlight flooded the tops of the trees, down here by the stream it was fast growing dark.
“Not much sealed, either,” he added, noticing what a tiny spot of the flap stuck tight to the paper beneath. “Some one has dropped it here. By Jove, Ellery, it’s addressed to William Barry! I’d give a farm in North Dakota to know what’s in it.”