Frank took up the book and eyed it scornfully, and threw it on the table as if he were tempted to pitch it out of the window.
"What does he do it for!" he demanded.
"I don't know—only out of kindness."
Frank shook his head.
"I don't believe it! I—I wish he hadn't! I beg your pardon. Have I offended you?" he added, contritely.
"No," said Stella, laughing. "Not a bit, you foolish boy," and she leant on her elbows and looked up at him with her dark eyes smiling.
He came nearer and looked down at her.
"I am glad you don't like him."
"I didn't say——"
"But I know it. Because I shouldn't like to hate anyone you liked," he added.