He submitted with such grace as he could muster, for children were tiresome to him, and he wanted to talk to Miss Walton, without "little pitchers with large ears" around.
Annie smiled to herself at his half-concealed annoyance and his wooden gallantry to Susie, but she understood child life well enough to know that the present arrangement would not last very long. And she was right. They had hardly entered the shady lane leading to the trees before a chipmonk, with its shrill note of exclamation at unexpected company, started out from some leaves near and ran for its hole.
Away went Aunt Annie's beau after it, and Susie also, quite oblivious of her first possession in that line, joined in the pursuit. There was an excited consultation above the squirrel's retreat, and then Johnny took out his knife and cut a flexible rod with which to investigate the "robber's den."
Gregory at once joined Annie, saying, "Since the beau of your choice has deserted you, will you accept of another?"
"Yes, till he proves alike inconstant."
"I will see to that. A burr shall be my emblem."
"Or I do," she added, laughing.
"Now the future is beyond my power."
"Perhaps it is anyway. Johnny was bent upon being a true knight. You may see something that will be to you what the chipmonk was to him."
"And such is your opinion of man's constancy? Miss Walton, you are more of a cynic than I am."