To be sure, the bit of doggerel had been inscribed on a card sent him by Harriette in the third-grade valentine box, but Louise need never know the secret of its authorship. And it expressed his feelings with such a degree of nicety!
He scrawled a huge, concluding "John," folded the paper complacently, and waved one hand to attract Miss Brown's attention.
"Please, may I go over to the school store and buy a copy book?"
"Are your lessons prepared for this afternoon?"
"Yes'm."
Consent was given. John rose, with the compact paper hidden in his right hand, and sauntered carelessly down the aisle. At his old desk, he paused with a fleeting glace at Louise as he dropped the note, and walked on into the hall. There he stopped to peer into the room through the half-closed door.
Louise covered the note with one hand and drew it toward her slowly and with infinite caution. He watched her face breathlessly. Curiosity was succeeded by surprise and then by anger. A little toss of her curls, a glance at teacher, and she half turned toward the door. He could see that her face was scarlet. What was she going to do?
Horror of horrors, she stuck out her tongue at him!
The ways of girls were beyond his comprehension. There was no cause for offense in that note. He loved her. Why should she object to being told about it?
He made his way moodily down the broad flight of stairs leading to the basement. There, in the big, dimly lighted, cement-floored playroom, where the children held forth on rainy days, he met a boy from another room, who was likewise in no hurry to return. They hailed each other in subdued tones.