"Yes!" she assented, turning her head impatiently—a carriage had just pulled across the road, blocking her in.
"I didn't see much of it," he blundered. There was not a flicker of expression on her face to show she saw it, only polite interest.
The carriage pulled out of the way. Frances leaned for her whip.
The young man's haughtiness broke in an instant, "Take me in with you!" he pleaded, though his pleading startled himself as much as her. "It's delightful for a drive; I've been shut in all day."
Frances turned laughing eyes towards him. "Jump in!" she cried.
And though there were moments enough, as they spun along, for either protest or pleading, the young man dared neither.
VIII
Frances had her enthusiasms; so had Edward Montague, with the saving difference that hers were for her amusement and his were concerning his life-work. Still he found time for other things also. He accepted the invitation to dinner promptly. The University was by no means a byway homeward, but he found many an odd moment to spend there when he rode in for his mail or for other affairs. He came the following Sunday and the next, and made the round of Sabbath-school and church and mission and late walk with the professor and his daughter.