“I’ll tell you this much,” said Shirley. “It’s about three miles from Paris, on the Bethlehem pike.”
The young man uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“I wonder if you know a Mr. Willing, who must live near you?”
“He is my father,” returned Shirley.
“You don’t say so! I am in luck, for I am going now to Willing’s place.”
Shirley felt frightened.
“You are?” she exclaimed.
“Yes.”
“On business?”
“Well, no, not exactly. You see, Mr. Willing and my father are old friends. Your father has often asked my father to stop and see him, and as I was near, I felt anxious to call.”