"That house shall be mine!" affirmed George Keets quite abruptly. "That gray stone one with the big bay-window and the pink rambler rose. The bay-window room I'm sure would make me a fine study. And——"
From an excessively delicate readjustment of a loose shutter on a rambling brown bungalow young Kennilworth looked up with a certain flicker of exasperation.
"Live anywhere you choose!" he snapped. "Miss Davies and I are going to live—here!"
"W—What?" stammered the May Girl. "What?"
"Here!" grinned young Kennilworth.
"Oh—no," said the May Girl. Without showing the slightest offense she seemed suddenly to be quite positive about it. "Oh, no!—If I live anywhere it's going to be in the gray stone house with Mr. Keets. It's so infinitely more convenient to the schools."
"To the what?" chuckled Kennilworth. Before the very evident astonishment and discomfiture in George Keets's face, his own was convulsed with joy.
"To the schools," dimpled the May Girl.
"You do me a—a very great honor," bowed George Keets. His face was scarlet.
"Thank you," said the May Girl.