The heart of Bart Hodge had given one great throb when his eyes rested upon her.
“How beautiful she is!” he inwardly cried.
She gave him her hand, with a pressure that thrilled his every nerve. The hot blood was in his cheeks, and she saw the love-light flame deep in his intense eyes. She knew how much he cared for her, and his love was something that made her afraid at times, for not yet did she understand her own heart.
Frank came. He was splendid, and he had a way of saying something pleasant in a manner that did not seem prosaically conventional. Pretty girls flocked round him, and he showed that he was one of those rare men who, while in every way a “man’s man,” could be quite at his ease in the presence of the other sex.
It was a perfect spring evening, so warm that the windows were thrown open and many of the guests sought the breeze that could be found on the broad veranda. Out there Chinese lanterns dangled and glowed, and the throng strolled beneath them.
Somewhere behind a screen of palms and flowers an orchestra gave forth sweet music. The heroes of Yale, the gridiron gladiator, the baseball man, the hammer-thrower, the sprinter, and others who had done things, were in great demand by the pretty girls.
But of all the heroes present Frank Merriwell was the most popular. The girls crowded to get a look at him, to speak to him, to hear his voice and receive a smile from him.
“He is it!” declared Jack Ready. “He has the call in this little game. I don’t know another fellow who wouldn’t look a little foolish or self-conscious. He doesn’t seem to know that he’s just about the whole blooming show. That makes him all the more popular. I am for boycotting him.”
“Boycott him!” growled Browning. “He’ll be girl-caught if he doesn’t look out. There isn’t a pretty girl here who doesn’t stand ready to fling herself at his head on the slightest provocation.”
“But what sort of a show do we stand?” sighed Ready sadly. “All the girls seem to want to talk about Merriwell, Merriwell, Merriwell. I just told a saucy young miss that I thought him perfectly horrid. She gave me the icy eye at once. Bet a button she won’t know me the next time we meet.”