"I—I had no such expectation," said Peter, stiffening, sure that his dignity was a poor thing.
"Or maybe——," she went on joyfully, "maybe you were afraid you might be fallin' in love with me." And then as she rose and gathered up her music, tantalizingly, "What did you mean, Mr. Nichols?"
He saw that he was losing ground with every word she uttered, but his sense of humor conquered.
"You little pixie!" he cried, dashing for her, with a laugh. "Where have you hidden this streak of impudence all these weeks?" But she eluded him nimbly, running around the table and out of the door before he could catch up with her.
He halted at the doorsill and called to her. She emerged cautiously from behind a bush and made a face at him.
"Beth! Come back!" he entreated. "I've got something to say to you."
"What?" she asked, temporizing.
"I want to talk to you—seriously."
"Good Lord—seriously! You're not goin' to—to take the risk of—of havin' me 'vamp' you, are you?"
"Yes. I'll risk that," he grinned.