Gertrude was looking into the show window of a store, admiring some pretty pictures, when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and turning, found herself face to face with Homer Bulson.
"Gertrude!" exclaimed the young man. "I have been looking high and low for you! Where have you been keeping yourself?"
"That is my business, Mr. Bulson," she answered stiffly.
"Why, Gertrude, you are not going to be angry at me, are you?"
"Why shouldn't I be angry? Haven't you made enough trouble for me?"
"I haven't made any trouble—you made that yourself," he answered, somewhat ruffled by her tone.
"I do not think so."
"Uncle Mark is very much upset over your disappearance."
"Does he wish me to come back?" she questioned eagerly.