Nat bowed and spoke pleasantly—he was no country boy. Viola had noticed that long ago.
"Viola has just been telling me her one hobby is music," said Dorothy, to start the small talk, "and she studies the violin. I think it so much more interesting than the piano," she commented.
"Oh, I've tried it," admitted Nat. "It is more interesting for others, but when it comes home to a fellow it is awfully scratchy and monotonous. But I suppose Miss Viola has gone past that period. I stuck there."
"That is because you did not start early enough," said Viola. "To do anything with the violin one ought to start before the squeaks and scratches can be realized."
"Good idea," agreed Nat. "That work should certainly be done in the—sub—conscious state."
"I'll leave you to settle the violin," said Dorothy, "while I pay my respects to Mrs. MacAllister. She has just come out, and wasn't it splendid of her to let us all come here?"
Dorothy made her way across the lawn to the knot of girls where Mrs. MacAllister was gracefully presiding.
But instantly Tavia saw that Nat was alone with Viola—the very thing she wanted to avoid. Nat might tell her the truth about the "chariot race," as the police patrol ride had become known. Besides, Viola could find out so many things from an unsuspecting boy.
"Come with me," said Tavia to Nettie, dragging the innocent girl along. "I want to present you to a friend of mine. Do you see that boy over there? The best looking fellow here? Well, he's a friend of mine."
"Delighted—I'm sure," agreed Nettie. "But what about the other girl? Miss Nile Green?"