Wallace caught the glance, noted by whom Ransquattle was seated, and flushed angrily.
"Roses must die whether plucked or not," remarked Sallie, "and the fingers that pluck them save them from wasting their sweetness on the desert air."
"You'll never be left to so sad a fate, Miss Rush," was the gallant rejoinder.
"I don't know," she replied, laughing and shaking her head, "there may be some danger if the thorns are too close when the gatherer of roses comes."
Wallace had found a seat near Mildred, and she noticed that as he talked with her he stole many a furtive and ill-pleased glance in Zillah's direction.
Mildred was folding up her work.
"You are not going yet," he said. "It wants a full half hour of the usual time for dispersing."
"I know, but Mrs. Smith is very sick, and I have promised to watch with her to-night."
"Milly, I'm going home," Ada said, coming up at that instant. "Mother will be lonely, perhaps, and I can work just as well there as here."