“Oh, say, come on!” impatiently exclaimed Hodge. “Let’s find the girls.”
“What girls?”
“Why, Miss Mischief and Miss Hazle, of course.”
“I was thinking of some other girls,” said Frank, quietly. “It seems but yesterday that we were at Fardale. Have you forgotten May Blossom, Bart?”
“Of course not!”
“I didn’t know. You seem greatly interested in these Belfast young ladies.”
“What’s struck you? Great Scott! are you preaching—to me? Why, you do not hesitate, when you see a pretty girl, to seek her society. You seem to forget Inza Burrage and Elsie Bellwood for the time. Oh, you can’t preach to me, old man! It won’t go down.”
Frank felt the blood rush to his cheeks.
“That’s all right, Hodge,” he said. “Perhaps I deserve this calling down from you. But my eyes have been opened somewhat to-day.”
“How?”