"Oh, no, I'm not tired!"—yet her face did not reflect his smile. She wished he would go away and leave her alone. Why must she continually be meeting him! Still she could not easily refuse when he urged his request, and she yielded a somewhat grave consent.
Miss Crilly and David Collins gayly led the quadrille that followed, and even Miss Castlevaine's habitual sneer was lost in the enjoyment of the moment. But Juanita Sterling, lover of all outdoors, devotee of music and the dance, with the best partner on the ground, went through the steps, her graceful feet and her aching heart pitifully at variance.
They walked together over to the edge of the wood.
"I have business in Riverview to-morrow morning—would you like to go? The ride over the mountain is very pretty now, and my errand won't take more than five minutes."
She could feel the warm blood creep up her face. Her answer hesitated. "I am sorry," came at last, "but I'm afraid I cannot—to-morrow."
He gave a little rueful laugh. "I always choose the wrong time," he said.
"I am very sorry," she repeated truthfully.
"Nelson!" called Miss Puddicombe, as they drew near. "It is horribly impolite; but I think I'll have to hurry you a little. I want to see Grace about those tickets for the Charity Fair, and it is getting late."
"I am at your disposal," he replied gallantly. And shortly they were gone.
Polly walked home with Miss Sterling. David was devoting himself to Patricia. Polly's gay mood had passed and left her quiet and pensive. Only commonplaces were spoken—Miss Castlevaine was just ahead, and her ears were sharp. Miss Sterling knew that as soon as the seclusion of the third-floor corner room was reached Polly's heart would overflow in confidences.