He captured both her hands. She drew back a little—ever so little; she trembled slightly, but her eyes met his frankly and bravely.
“No, no!... Not now.... Go, now, Mr. Bransford. Go at once. We will have a pleasant day to remember.”
“Until the next pleasant day,” said resolute Bransford, openly exultant. “But see here, now—I can’t go to Lake’s camp or to Lake’s ball”—here Miss Ellinor pouted distinctly—“or anything that is Lake’s. After your masked ball, then what?”
“New York; but it’s only so far—on the map.” She held her hands apart very slightly to indicate the distance. “On a little map, that is.”
“I’ll drop in Saturdays,” said Jeff.
“Do! I want to hear you sing the rest about the little eohippus.”
“If you’ll sing about Sandy!” suggested Jeff.
“Why not? Good-by now—I must go.”
“And you won’t sing about Sandy to any one else?”
The girl considered doubtfully.