“‘I—I did not know you wanted to meet me,’ I stammered.
“Roy Sunderman was a full grown man, and I was not long in becoming interested in what he was saying. The time sped so rapidly that the crowd was half gone before I thought of it being the hour for leaving. Then, so wrapped was I in what Mr. Sunderman was saying, that my escort of the evening called me twice before he attracted my attention to get me to join him on the homeward trip.
“I had not granted Mr. Sunderman’s request to be allowed to call, but told him I would consider the matter and notify him if I concluded to allow him to come.
“Elmer Lane upbraided me so unmercifully on my way home for my conduct of the evening that my mind was made up before I went to bed. I wrote Mr. Sunderman a note asking him to call on the Sunday evening following. Long before the summer sun had gone to rest on that Sunday evening, Elmer called for his answer, saying that he had persuaded his father to decline the honor of being a candidate. ‘And now,’ said he, ‘I want you to say that you will love me.’
“‘But I don’t love you,’ said I.
“‘No, I suppose that young snob from town has filled your head full of poetry and such like.’
“‘I don’t know what you mean.’
“‘I mean that smarty that you sneaked off in the dark with, over at Wilson’s party.’
“‘If you mean Mr. Sunderman, you are mistaken,’ said I.
“‘Well, that’s who I mean, and I’ll tell you now that he’s the cause of all the trouble about this trustee business, and what’s more, I’ll show you mighty quick where he will end. I mean to have my dad run, and he’ll beat your ‘old man’ all holler, so good-bye, Miss Dalby.’