"But we can come again—before you go home."
"Florence—I don't want to go, now." He hesitated a moment. "I might make the governor believe that the summer school would materially benefit his son," he added.
She laughed at the mockery in his voice. "I'm afraid I should be your only professor," she said.
"I would hope so," he replied.
"No, dear," she said, seriously, "don't this summer—next, perhaps."
"Will you write me then—often?" he asked.
"How often?"
"Don't you suppose you could—I shan't say every day—but every other day?"
"Yes."
And his heart leaped in his breast at the tone she employed.