"He hasn't insulted you?" asked Dave quietly.
"Oh, dear, no! If he had, I think I might have been able to startle him somewhat," laughed Belle, who had a "temper" when it was necessary to have one. As she spoke she raised her eyes, glancing ahead.
"There, he has stopped, and looks almost as though he were waiting for us," she added.
"There's an ugly scowl on his face, too."
Dave Darrin looked ahead at the foppish, rather good-looking, tall and slender young man of some twenty-six years.
"I hope he isn't going to be troublesome," murmured Dave. "I don't want to have to fight with him—at least, not when you're along with me."
As they neared Ardmore, Dave continued to look at the young man quietly, steadily, frankly. Ardmore seemed trying to ignore the gaze, and looked, instead, at Belle.
Just as the young couple reached him, Ardmore raised his hat, at the same time stepping forward so that he blocked Belle's progress.
"Good afternoon, Miss Meade," was Ardmore's greeting. "I was on my way to your house when I saw you. Mother has some tickets for a concert at the Sorosis rooms, and is unable to use them this afternoon. So I have come to ask you if you will not honor me with your company at the concert?"
"Thank you, no," Belle answered coldly. "And I would also like to make it plain, Mr. Ardmore, since you make it necessary, that I do not wish your company at any time or place. I am sorry to have to speak so plainly."