She was beautiful at the moment, and as she lifted her eyes to his something in their shining depths spoke witchingly to the youth of nineteen, untrained in ways of feminine coquetry. He was only a country boy, unskilled in social tactics, but a combination of timidity and good breeding shaped his ideals and his action.
“I don’t care for all the boys,” Jo murmured.
“Then we are hopelessly bankrupt,” Thaine declared. “Isn’t this a wonderful night?”
“Yes, and father and mother are going home so early,” Jo said.
“Well, your whole wardrobe is over here; why not stay 227 all night? You can help Rosie and mother and me tomorrow. There are plenty of Benningtons left at your home without you, and mother will want you,” Thaine urged.
“Do you want me to?” Jo asked softly.
“Tremendously. We’ll eat all the ice cream that’s left when the crowd goes and have the empty mansion all to ourselves,” Thaine declared.
“We are to dance the last dance together too,” Jo reminded him.
“Let’s run in now. The crowd doesn’t miss me, but I’m host, you know, and they’re gasping for you. They’ll be scouring the premises if we wait longer.”
As Thaine lifted Jo to her feet there was a glitter of tears in her bright eyes. And because the place was shadowy and sweet with honeysuckle perfume, and the moonlight entrancing, and Jo was very willing, and tears are ever appealing, he put his arm around her and drew her close to him, and kissed her on each cheek.