Ruth sat up and wiped her eyes. He looked into them, saw them cleared now of dread, and it was a sufficient reward. For her part, in that instant, Ruth almost loved Bonbright, not as lovers love, but as one loves a benefactor, some one whose virtues have earned affection. But it was not that sort that Bonbright asked of her, she knew full well.
"Now—er—Miss Frazer," he said, briskly, "I don't want to appear forward for a new acquaintance, but if I suggested that there was a bully play in town—sort of tentatively, you know—what would happen to me?"
"Why, Mr. Foote," she replied, able to enter into the spirit of the pretense, "I think you'd find yourself in the awkward position of a young man compelled to buy two seats."
"No chaperons?"
"Where I come from," she said, "chaperons are not in style."
"And we'll go some place after the play….I want to make the most of my opportunity, because I've got to work all day to-morrow. It's a shame, too, because I have a feeling that I'd like to monopolize you."
"Aren't you going a bit fast for a comparative stranger?" she asked, merrily.
He pretended to look crestfallen. "You sha'n't have to put me in my place again," he promised; "but wait—wait till we've known each other a week!…Do you know, Miss Frazer, you have a mighty charming smile!"
"It has been remarked before," she said.
"We mustn't keep our hostess waiting. I'm afraid we'll be late for dinner, now." He chuckled at the idea.