“This is something different. Neighbor is just as pleased as Cecile and Aunt Lorena. I don’t suppose I shall be a professor of botany; but this experience will help, and while I am helping Professor Keeps I’ll be getting full credit in my regular course. Shan’t have much tutoring to do to catch up.”
“It is certainly nice that you can be with us,” sighed Ruth happily. “I wish Cecile might have come.”
“Aunt Lorena needs her. And whisper! I believe Cecile has a new interest near home.”
“No!” ejaculated Ruth, her eyes shining.
“Yes, ma’am! Cecile has a ‘gemplum friend.’ And he’s an all right fellow—‘Gene Barrows. He has a garage, and a business, and red hair. And he is going to make a good thing of all three,” chuckled Luke.
Agnes, as she regained her strength, regained her volubility and charm as well. She was a very pretty girl, and in spite of her youth she always attracted attention from both young and old. She was especially popular with the men and boys of the passenger list.
She showed preference for none of them, however, save Neale O’Neil, yet some of the girls of her own age aboard began, before long, to consider that the blond Kenway girl gathered altogether too many of the boys about her. The boys gathered about Neale, too, but the envious ones would not see that. In fact, having set their futile traps for Neale and failed to snare him, they were all the angrier with helpless Agnes.
“Who is that girl who stares at me so hard whenever she passes, Neale?” Agnes asked languidly, as she lolled in her steamer chair on the third morning out of Boston. “Have I seen her somewhere before, or do I owe her money?”
“Hush, my child!” urged Neale, grinning. “You know not of whom you speak in so careless a manner.”
“Is she somebody?” asked Agnes, with increased interest.