“I suppose I thought,” he resumed after a moment, “that if I were not here some one might pick up the mills and run off with them.”
“And now?” She was back in the present, and her eyes were merry.
“And now? Well, now I come nearer realizing my limitations, perhaps,” he laughed. “At any rate, I learned long ago that your interests were in excellent hands, and that my presence could do very little good, even if they had not been in such fine shape.... But I am keeping you,” he broke off suddenly, backing away from the car. “Are you—can you—you do not need me any longer to run the machine? You’ll not go back through the town, of course.”
“No, I shall not go back through the town,” shuddered the girl. “And I can drive very well by myself now, I am sure,” she declared. And he did not know that for a moment she had been tempted to give quite the opposite answer. “I shall go on to the next turn, and then around home by the other way.... But I shall see you soon again?—you will come to see me?” she finished, as she held out her hand.
McGinnis shook his head.
“Miss Kendall, in the kindness of her heart, forgets,” he reminded her quietly. “Bobby McGinnis is not on Hilcrest’s calling list.”
“But Bobby McGinnis is my friend,” retorted Miss Kendall with a bright smile, “and Hilcrest always welcomes my friends.”
Still standing under the shadow of the great tree, McGinnis watched the runabout until a turn of the road hid it from sight.
“I thought ‘twould be easier after I’d met her once, face to face, and spoken to her,” he was murmuring softly; “but it’s going to be harder, I’m afraid—harder than when I just caught a glimpse of her once in a while and knew that she was here.”