For a moment no one knew what to do or say. Tom was nervously kicking at the pebbles in the path, while Phil got out his knife and began whittling a stick furiously. As usual it was the girls who saved the situation.
“I suppose he’s gone off to get some more pictures,” said Madge, with a nervous little laugh. “Come on, Ruth, we mustn’t let Mabel go back there all alone. After all, I don’t believe we want to go sit in the shade. Isn’t dinner almost ready? I’m nearly famished, boys.”
“Yes, bring on the butter, ants and all,” added Ruth.
“All right, just as you say,” responded Phil, with a quick look at Tom, who rather avoided the glance, for he was sorely puzzled. “I dare say grub is ready. We’ll dine beneath the greenwood tree, from whence all care shall banished be.”
“Bravo!” cried Miss Tyler. “You never told me your brother was a poet, Ruth.”
“He doesn’t know it himself,” commented his sister dryly. “Oh, there’s Mabel. Wait!” she called, and the girl in advance turned. There was a troubled look in her blue eyes, but otherwise she was calm.
“Isn’t it perfectly charming in the woods,” she remarked. “I wish Fairview College was nearer the lake.”
“Oh, we’ll come over and get you, any time you want to come,” said Tom quickly.
“Thank you,” responded Miss Harrison, with a grateful look at him. She seemed to have recovered control of herself, but there was a pathetic air about her, which did not vanish.