“I’m afraid I don’t know where he lodges, but we can inquire at the offices of the college.”
“I suppose I could do that just as well as you, Bixby,” put in the young man who was host of the party.
“Won’t all of you come? I shouldn’t mind,” murmured Nancy.
There was a general movement at this astonishing invitation, a shuffling of feet on the floor and a simultaneous disappearance of pipes, and appearance of hats and caps.
“Won’t you let me carry your parasol?” asked one who craved that honor so deeply that he forgot to stammer and blush.
“Allow me to carry your bag,” another requested, as if Nancy were a queen and he her most devoted subject.
And even as a queen did she now descend the steps and pass out of the lodging house, surrounded by a noble escort of eight; nor did she heed that sorrowful token of her impatience, the uprooted bell.
As she went out, she said:
“Perhaps I had better introduce myself. I am an American girl——”
A telegraphic smile flashed from one member of the company to the other.