"Not in the winter, I fancy?" said Mr. Hammond.
"No, sir. When it is all green and leafy and beautiful," said Ruth, eagerly.
"Then," said Mr. Hammond, more seriously, "I'd try my 'prentice hand, if I were you, on something else. Don't write the Red Mill scenario now. Write some thrilling but simple story, and let me read it first——"
"Oh, Mr. Hammond!" gasped Ruth, with clasped hands. "Will you really read it?"
"Of course I will," laughed the gentleman. "No matter how bad it is. That's a promise. Here is my card with my private address upon it. You send it directly to me, and the first time I am at home I will get it and give it my best attention. That's a promise," he repeated.
"Oh, thank you, sir!" murmured Ruth delightedly, smiling and dimpling.
He pinched her cheek and his eyes grew serious for a moment. "I once knew a girl much like you, Miss Ruth," he said. "Just as full of life and enthusiasm. You are a tonic for old fogies like me."
"Old fogy!" repeated Ruth. "Why, I'm sure you are not old, Mr. Hammond."
"Never mind flattering me," he broke in, with assumed sternness. "Haven't I already promised to read your scenario?"
"Yes, sir," said Ruth, demurely. "But you haven't promised to produce it."