"Wait a minute," said Bessie, releasing her arm. She walked up to Tom, and, taking his hand cordially, said: "Good-by, Gilbert. I'm ever so much obliged to you for taking care of me. We live at 116 B—— street. I hope you will call in a day or two. Papa will be glad to see you, and he will thank you, too."
Tom's face flushed with pleasure.
"Thank you, Miss Bessie," he said. "I'd like to do it all over again."
"You'll be sure to come?"
"Yes, I'll come."
Maurice listened to this conversation with impatient annoyance. He liked his pretty cousin enough to be jealous of any one to whom she seemed attentive, and he thought her altogether too cordial with this strange boy.
"Who's that fellow?" he asked, as they were passing out of the depot.
"I don't know whom you mean."
"The boy you spoke to."
"The young gentleman I spoke to," remarked Bessie, with emphasis, "was Gilbert Grey."