“Beth! Why, Beth Baldwin! How lucky to see you at once!” and Beth met him quite as warmly, forgetting all about Madam Hammersly’s presence, and put both her hands—one still holding the dustcloth—in Larry’s gloved ones.
CHAPTER XXI
THE BURIAL OF FRIENDSHIP
Both the young people were for the moment quite unconscious of Madam Hammersly’s presence. They shook hands longer than was necessary, and burbled inconsequential questions and answers, as most people do to hide their deepest feelings. Beth’s black eyes sparkled through a film of teardrops and Larry’s blue eyes expressed all the admiration they were capable of showing.
But he said: “How nice to see you again, Beth. Say! is there a girl going to school here named Freylinghausen?”
“Freylinghausen?” repeated Beth, puzzled, yet feeling that the name struck some chord of memory.
“Yes. Miss Freylinghausen, of Philadelphia. No end of a swell——”
“We have plenty of that kind here, Larry,” said Beth, her eyes twinkling and the dimples coming into her cheeks at the call of mischief. “But I do not think that a girl of that name attends Rivercliff School.”
“Why! I just saw her come out. She passed me on the steps. She took the car I rode up in just now,” cried Larry, rather excitedly. “I met her once with a party of Philadelphians that came to New York——”
“Oh, my dear!” laughed Beth. “That was Cynthia Fogg.”
“Who was? The girl I met in New York?”