“I have a sheepskin somewhere here under the seat. I’ll put that on to satisfy you. Will that do?”
“Yes.”
Nobody talked on the homeward trip; each was too busy thinking of what might have happened.
“Go ahead and open the doors for us, Miss Grant,” directed Jim, when they stopped in front of the hotel, and he prepared to carry Nancy in. Like a good soldier, Jeanette obeyed, and did not look behind.
“It’s quite unnecessary to carry me, Jim,” said Nancy. “I can walk perfectly well now; see? I’d really rather not be carried in. Please!” as he hesitated.
“I—I don’t know what to say to you, how to thank you,” she continued.
“Don’t try. Go in now, dear. I’ll see you to-morrow.”
At the top of the long flight of steps, up which he assisted her, a pillar shut off the light from the windows; and in its shadow Jim stooped and shyly kissed Nancy. Then he pushed her gently into the lobby, where Jeanette was waiting; ran down the steps, and out to the bus.
“My goodness, Nan,” cried Jeanette, “you were so long getting in that I was afraid he had dropped you.”
“He didn’t carry me, Janie. I’m all right now. Please don’t tell the others that part of it,” she begged.