"Hush! I—oh, I can't tell you," glancing apprehensively toward Blackburn. "We are going on through Elmbrook when we leave," she whispered hurriedly, "and you may drive me as far as the village, and we can talk over—things."
Gilbert felt a chill at his heart. Here, indeed, was the irony of fate.
"I—oh, I'm so sorry," he stammered, in blank dismay. "I've promised to drive some one else back." The confession was out before he thought.
"It's that Miss Cameron with the red hair!" cried Rosalie, with startling suddenness.
Gilbert's face grew hot. "Well, and what of that?" he asked reasonably.
Rosalie held her pretty head high. "Tell her you must take me," she said firmly.
"Rosalie!" cried Gilbert, "you couldn't ask me to do that. Miss Cameron is a lady, and she is proud, and——wait. Come for a little drive now. We can be back before the others are ready to leave."
"I will, if you promise me you will not drive her home afterward."
"Surely," he cried in dismay, "you wouldn't want me to be rude to her?"
Rosalie stood for a moment looking searchingly at him. He was changed. He was not the boy who for three years had been ready to do her slightest bidding, no matter what the consequences. Just because she had condescended to become engaged to him he was assuming airs of authority. Well, their engagement was a secret yet—she had insisted upon that—and she could soon find a way to frighten him into submission.