"Yes, the climax," answered Tavia. "What do you think of the scenery?"
"Mercy!" breathed Edna aside. "If they start that sort of talk we may as well camp out to-night."
But the young man did not express his opinion publicly. Instead, he stepped up to Tavia, and presently the two were conversing in subdued voices.
Dorothy did not like that. She, in fact, did not fancy this young man's "apparition" habit, and she now determined to force Tavia to a sense of her own obligations to reach Glenwood School without further delay.
"Girls," called Dorothy, "we really must hurry! Thank you, very much" (this to the strange man), "for your kindness this afternoon, but you see now, we have to get back to school. We would not have been out so long but for the fact that this is privilege day—school closes Thursday."
"Then why not make use of the privilege?" the young man asked, with a sly look at Tavia. "We don't meet—professional friends every afternoon."
The thought that Tavia might have met this man while engaged in her brief and notable stage career, as related in "Dorothy Dale's Great Secret," flashed across Dorothy's mind. With it came a thought of danger—Tavia was scarcely yet cured of her dramatic fever.
The sheep stood around in the most serio-comic style, and the seminary girls were scarcely less comic.
"Oh!" screamed Nita, suddenly, "there comes that awful farmer! And he has a whip!"
"Can't ride off on a sheep this time," remarked Tavia with ill-chosen levity. "Let's run!"