He turned to look at her. She colored a little, but she returned his look.
"You—you mean it?" he demanded.
"Of course I mean it. I must get there somehow, because I promised Mr. Bradley. And unless you don't want me, in which case I shall have to hire from the livery stable, I——"
But he interrupted her. "Want you!" he repeated. "Want you!"
His tone was sufficiently emphatic, perhaps more emphatic than he would have made it if he had not been taken by surprise. She must have found it satisfactory, for she did not ask further assurances.
"Thank you," she said. "And when are you planning to start?"
"Why—why, right after dinner to-morrow. If that's all right for you. But I'm sorry you had to invite yourself. I—I thought—well, I thought maybe George had—had planned——"
To his further surprise she seemed a trifle annoyed.
"George works at the store," she said. "Besides, I—well, really, Cap'n Kendrick, there is no compelling reason why George Kent should take me everywhere I want to go."
Now Sears had imagined there was—and rumor and surmise in Bayport had long supported his imagining—but he did not tell her that. What he did say was inane enough.