"I—I'm afraid one of my terrible headaches is coming on," she murmured, with embarrassment. "It is so hot this afternoon. Would you mind taking me home, Mr. Ingram?"
"Perhaps it would be better," he said, quickly. "The sun will be fierce on the water, and a rest may save you from the headache."
They turned at once and retraced their steps. At the corner of Misha-haken Avenue they again passed Katie and her group of friends. The heiress marched stiffly by, but could not forbear one glance toward the group and caught Betty's scornful smile as a consequence. Poor Clara's humiliation was so great that she nearly sobbed outright. A clerk! A mere clerk in Marshall Field's. And she had been devoting herself to the fellow for a whole week!
Jim was not blind, and needed no explanation. Silently he escorted the girl to her cottage, the amused twinkle in his eye growing stronger every moment as he noted her indignation and resentment increasing. At her porch she dismissed him with a mumbled word and ran in to indulge in a good cry as a safety valve to her vexation. And the discarded youth lightly retraced his steps to the hotel, whistling reflectively as he went—which was ample proof that he did not realize how serious was the wicked imposition he had practised.
Of course Katie had informed the other girls most fully of the fact that young Ingram was "a cheap clerk in her father's department," and although Gladys merrily declared it would be an added inducement for her to trade at the store, the other shrewd damsels were quick to see that such an acquaintance was quite undesirable.
"We really have no protection from such adventurers at a summer resort," observed Betty. "I understand now why he picked out 'the heiress.' Her supposed fortune interested him."
"Supposed, Betty?"
"Well, she doesn't display any moving pictures of it."
"We were too eager to get acquainted with a stranger, just because men were scarce," Mary remarked, a little bitterly. "This ought to teach us a lesson, girls."
"Hush! Here he comes."