"Well," said Nan, drawing herself up a little stiffly, "what is that to me?" Unfortunately, Cephas had come upon the girl when she was talking with Eugenia Claiborne, who had sought her out at the Lumsden Place.
Cephas looked at her hard a moment, and then his freckled face turned red. He was properly angry. "Well, whatever it may be to you, it's a heap to me," he said. "I hope it's nothing to you."
"Cephas, will you see Paul Tomlin?" asked Eugenia. "If you do, tell him that one of his friends sent him her love."
"Is it sure enough love?" inquired Cephas.
"Yes, Cephas, it is," replied Eugenia simply and seriously—but her face was very red. "Tell him that Eugenia Claiborne sent him her love."
"All right," said Cephas, and turned away without looking at Nan. She had hurt his feelings.
This turn of affairs didn't suit Nan at all. She ran after Cephas, and caught him by the arm. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Cephas, to treat me so? How could I tell you anything before others? If you see Gabriel, tell him—oh, I don't know what to say. If I was to tell you what I want to, you'd say that Nan Dorrington had lost her mind. No, I'll not send any word, Cephas. It wouldn't be proper in a young lady. If he asks about me, just tell him that I am well and happy."
She turned away, in response to a call from Eugenia Claiborne, but she kept her eyes on Cephas for some time. Evidently she wished to send a message, but was afraid to. "Don't be angry with me, Cephas," she said, before the youngster got out of hearing. Cephas made no reply, but trudged on stolidly. He was at the age when a boy is easily disgusted with girls and young women. You may call them sweet creatures if you want to, but a twelve-year-old boy is not to be deceived by fine words. The sweet creatures are under no restraints when dealing with small boys, and the small boys are well acquainted with all their worst traits. What is most strange is that this intimate knowledge is of no service to them when they grow a little older. They forget all about it and fall into the first trap that love sets for them.
Cephas was angry without knowing why. He felt that both Gabriel and himself had been insulted, though he couldn't have explained the nature of the insult; and he was all the angrier because he was fond of Nan. She had been very kind to the little boy—kinder, perhaps, than he deserved, for he had made the impulsive young lady the victim of many a practical joke.
As Cephas went along, it suddenly occurred to him that he had done wrong to say anything about his proposed journey, and the thought took away all his resentment. He whirled in his tracks, and ran back to where he had left the girls. He saw Eugenia Claiborne sauntering along the street, but Nan was nowhere in sight. He had no trouble in pledging Miss Claiborne to secrecy, for she was very fond of all sorts of secrets, and could keep them as well as another girl.