He fed the kitten and then tried in vain to obtain further converse with Pen alone, but the children out-maneuvered all his efforts and finally Pen took them back to the house.
“When?” half whispered Jo, as they were leaving.
“When Mrs. Kingdon says,” she murmured in reply.
She turned back for another glance. He was standing, cap in hand, with the air of a conqueror.
“What’s the verdict on Jo?” asked Kingdon.
“Jo’s inimitable,” she replied lightly.
“Wait until you dance with him,” he said. “Jo dances his way into every girl’s heart.”
“I can believe that.”
“He’s one of those sunny-hearted fellows that people take to be shallow, but under the surface brightness there’s a tolerably deep current. And he never nurses a grudge. If anyone should stick a knife in Jo, he’d only make a question mark of his eyebrow and give a wondering smile.”
“What I can’t understand,” said Pen, “is why the children don’t like him.”