The girl threw back her head and laughed.
“Nothing.”
“Well, he went off as if he had been shot from a gun. That is not like him at all, I should say, from what I have seen of him. Perhaps I should have looked after him a little more. I tried once, but I could not get him away from you. His manner is really charming when he talks, and he is so natural and so well bred; not at all like his friend, of whom he seems to think so much. How did you like him, dear Ruth?”
“Oh, I don't know.” She knew, but she didn't intend to tell anybody. “He's very shy and—”
“—And very young.”
“Yes, perhaps.”
“And very much of a gentleman,” broke in Peter in a decided tone. None should misunderstand the boy if he could help it.
Again Ruth laughed. Neither of them had touched the button which had rung up her sympathy and admiration.
“Of course he is a gentleman. He couldn't be anything else. He is from Maryland, you know.”