“It seems a pity to leave this,” remarked Luke, glancing around on their trysting place.
“Oh, we can come back,” conceded Ruth.
“Thanks,” he said softly.
There was the usual merry ado about setting out the lunch boxes and baskets, and the usual ants walked, true to form, into the butter and cloyed themselves with sweetness in the sugar. But this is always expected at picnics.
As Neale remarked:
“No outing is complete without them.”
But Nalbro rather shuddered when a grasshopper alighted on her slice of bread and threw it quickly away from her with a muttered:
“Ugh! The horrid thing!”
“You don’t give him credit!” laughed Luke. “Like the bees to the flowers, he was attracted by your magnetic personality.”
“Thank you!” murmured the Boston girl, flashing a look at Luke, who was boldly regarding her. And Agnes, by means of her eyes, telegraphed some message to Ruth.