Frank had quite forgotten the unpleasant occurrence of the previous afternoon, and he dipped into his studies after the earnest manner that had marked him of late.
On returning from recitation in the middle of the forenoon, he found visitors in his room. They had been admitted by "Honest John," the colored porter.
"Lor' bress yeh!" grinned the white-headed old darky, showing his teeth in a broad grin—"Lor' bress yeh, Mistah Merriwell! Nebber see no purtier gal in all mah bawn days!"
"Girl!" cried Frank, astonished.
"Lor' bress yeh, yes! Purty's a picter, Mistah Merriwell."
"Girl in my room?"
"Yes, sah."
"You let her in, John?"
"Yes, sah; but dar's a lady wif her, sah."
"Oh, ha!"