“Don’t hurry. I’ll take you home,” said he. Then, with sudden virtue, “You know, this is to be the last.”
She shook her head, laughing. “Oh, no. I’ll be down at the lake, as usual, to-morrow morning.”
“I’ll not be there.”
“Then I’ll come on here.”
“Now, Rix, that isn’t square.”
“Square? To whom?”
“To me—to yourself—to that chap you’re engaged to.”
“Are you afraid of falling in love with me?”
“No—not in the least,” replied he, hasty and vigorous. “I don’t think of you at all in that way.”
“You think you’ll hurt my vanity and make me angry.”