“Don’t baby me too much, Mother,” he said. “The girls don’t think I am a baby.”
“Indeed?” she asked. “Are there more girls? I don’t know but you are in more danger off the road, than on.”
“A new one,” said Ralph frankly. He and his mother were the very best of friends. “Didn’t I tell you the new super has a daughter? And she’s a peach! No! I mean she is a Cherry.”
“Cherry?”
“Cherry Hopkins. She is the girl I saw home just now.”
“Is she as pretty as her name?” asked Mrs. Fairbanks curiously.
“You bet she is! I’d like to have you see her. I don’t see how such a cold and severe proposition as Mr. Hopkins ever came by such a daughter.”
“So you think well of her, do you?” asked the widow rather wistfully.
“I surely do. But I don’t know what she thinks of me. You know how these girls are. They keep everything close. A fellow doesn’t have a chance to learn their opinion of him. They treat ’em all alike.”
“Quite right,” returned the widow. “The reticent girl keeps out of danger.”