What a different specimen of girlhood was Millicent Duane! Of course, she was nothing but a child, with her ready tears and blushes; still, it was better to be crude, and sweet, and pure, than sophisticated and audacious. He wished he could have seen her face when Ogden told them his news. A certain looking up to himself which the girl had evinced in their daily meetings, he suddenly found was valuable to him. Colonel Duane had said Miss Frink’s nephew was always sure of a welcome. He knew what that meant, and the implication again stirred his rebellion. He would know when he saw Millicent to-day if he had much to live down in her transparent soul.
CHAPTER XXIII
MILLICENT
Very soon Millicent’s familiar figure appeared at the iron gate. Before she started from home she had talked with her grandfather.
“You’re sending a message to Hugh by me that it will be more convenient for you to see him in the morning after this,” she said.
“But it wouldn’t.” Colonel Duane looked surprised.
“Yes, it will be,” returned Millicent firmly.
The old gentleman blinked. “What’s this? Tired of the walks over here together?”
“Never mind details, dear.”