"Indeed it isn't. He always treats me as though I were a hot potato, and he were afraid of burning his fingers."
Jerry roared.
"Well, perhaps he's got good reason."
Diana shook; her head smilingly.
"Oh, no. It's not that. Mr. Errington doesn't like me."
Jerry stared at her reflectively.
"That couldn't be true," he said at last, with conviction.
"I don't know that I like him—very much—either," pursued Diana.
"You would if you really knew him," said the boy eagerly. "He's one of the very best."
"He's rather a mysterious person, don't you think?"