"I have one request to make of you," she said. "Please do not tell any of my folks that you do not care for me, and that it is not a bonâ-fide love-match."
He bowed coldly.
She went on: "Mamma has a relative—an old maiden cousin, ever so old—who liked my picture so well that she declared she would make me her heiress. She's worth almost as much as you are. They named me after her—Sally Rogers Pendleton. That's how I happen to have such a heathenish name. But I'll change it quick enough after the old lady dies and leaves me her money.
"And you will call to see me often?" asked Sally.
"Before I promise that, I must ask what you call 'often.'"
"You should take me out riding every afternoon, and call at least every other evening."
Again that angry look crossed Jay's handsome face.
"In this case the usual customs must be waived," he answered, haughtily. "I will call for you when I drive. That must suffice."
Jay Gardiner's thoughts were not any too pleasant as he wended his way to his boarding-house. He had always prided himself on his skill in evading women, lest a drag-net in the hands of some designing woman might insnare him. Now he had been cleverly outwitted by an eighteen-year-old girl.
He suddenly lost all pleasure in driving. He was thankful for the rainy week that followed, as he was not obliged to take Sally out driving.