“Oh, yes, Gloria,” he smiled. “Some time when we are better acquainted I’m going to tell you what a pretty name you’ve got,” he said, after the manner of any young man who sees a good opening for a clever compliment.
Millie pinched her chum’s elbow. Also she emitted a little hissing gasp. But Gloria was grown up enough to repress the smile behind her lips.
“Did you—wish an answer?” she faltered in a politely strained voice.
“Oh, no. It’s just something about—something.” (He was attractive.) “As far as I’m concerned Old Briney is so glorious I don’t care about even a roof, but of course, it may come in handy before winter is over,” he remarked pleasantly.
“Oh, it will,” replied Gloria, letting her polite reserve fly out on the breeze that accidently flew in. “The house does keep well heated,” she felt bound to advertise, “but it gets good and cold in Barbend,” she added wisely.
He was edging away. “That’s a wonderful rocky hill over there. Not often do we find one like that around the ocean. May I go up and take a look?”
Millie almost pushed Gloria out the door.
“Oh, Mr. Hardy,” said the girl at front. “I would like to introduce my friend, Miss Millie Graham.”
The meaningless words that followed led up to all three going over to Baldy Rock to inspect the universe from that critical outlook.
Presently as they exchanged the usual opinions on the glory of the ocean, and the gentility of the land that edged it—even Millie forgot to blush and even Gloria forgot to be anxious.