“But Lem is such a dear boy—”
“He'd have to be a whole sight dearer before I'd ever want a thief in my house,” Susan interrupted. “I'll let him stay to-night, but tomorrow back he goes to his worthless parent, money or no money.”
It was evident her dislike was still keen, and Henrietta knew it would never do for his aunt to discover he had decamped, even temporarily, by the window. Lem might not return, but if he did Miss Susan must not know he had ever fled. That, she was sure, Susan would never forgive.
“Let me go up to him, Miss Susan,” she begged. “You're tired and it makes you cross, and I love Lem.”
Miss Susan was willing, and Henrietta went up to the empty room. When she came down she said there was nothing the matter with Lem now, as far as she could see, which was, in a way, true enough, for she had looked out of his window and could not see him at all.
The evening was pleasant. Gay, who had come across the street, and Lorna and Freeman were already on the porch. As Henrietta went out to them, Carter Bruce came up the walk. Gay was on the step, with Freeman at her side, and they were talking in low tones. Bruce hailed every one and stopped in front of Freeman.
“I hear you are going to leave us,” he said. “First I've heard it,” said Todder lightly. “Where did you get that?”
“I got it straight,” Carter said. “I hear you 're going to leave Riverbank the first of the week.”
“Nothing in it,” said Todder carelessly. “Why leave Riverbank where the fairest girls are? Must have meant some other fellow, Bruce.”
“No. You're the man. I'm not mistaken,” Bruce said.