There she stood, glancing at Joe with a breathless eagerness. He turned pale, and yet at the same time there was a whirl of fire in his heart. She had come to him; he wanted to gather her close and bear her off through the wild autumn weather, off to the wilderness. He reached out a hand and inclosed a very cold and very little one.
"Why, you're frozen!" he said, with a queer laugh.
"Oh—not much!" she gasped. She held her leather bag under her arm and took off her gloves. Then she loosened her coat, and gave a sigh.
He gazed at her warm-tinted cheek, almost losing himself, and then murmured, suddenly:
"More school stuff?"
She made a grimace and tried to speak lightly, but her voice almost failed her.
"Class 6-B, let me tell you, is giving the 'Landing of the Pilgrims,' and every blessed little pilgrim is Bohemian. Here's the programme!"
With trembling fingers she opened her bag and handed him some loose sheets. He bent over them at once.
"Now make it cheap, Mr. Blaine," she said, severely. "Rock bottom! Or
I'll give the job to some one else."
Joe laughed strangely.