She glanced up questioningly, yet with burning cheeks, for she knew what he meant, but was not quite sure yet what he wished her to call him.
“My mother calls me Archie,” he said, with a meaning smile.
“Must I call you that?” she asked, her heart thrilling at the name, yet instinctively shrinking from addressing him quite so familiarly just yet.
“There is no ‘must’ about it, nor about anything else that you do not like, my darling,” he said, very gently, but looking a trifle grave, she thought.
“Then please let me go—Archie, for I know Uncle Jacob is wondering why it takes me so long to get out of the carriage, and—and ever so many people are looking at us,” Star said, wishing she could hide her hot cheeks, and realizing, if he did not, that he was holding her hands a great deal longer than there was any need of doing.
A brilliant smile parted his lips as he released her, and she darted away just as a servant came forward to take the horse, he following more leisurely to give her time to recover herself a little.
“You have enjoyed your drive, little one?” Mr. Rosevelt asserted, questioningly, as she came and stood beside his chair, while he regarded her with a keen glance.
“Very much, Uncle Jacob; and you—are you rested?” Star asked, eager to turn his attention from herself.
“Entirely, and am as hungry as an old bear, too. These sea breezes have sharpened my appetite to a painful degree,” he replied, as if his hunger was the only subject which occupied his thoughts, while all the time he was watching her closely, and telling himself that there must be some cause more potent than “sea breezes” for her brilliant color and that tender light in her eyes.
“I am delighted to hear it,” young Sherbrooke said, now joining them, “for our tea is waiting for us, I am told, and we shall have just about time enough to dispatch it comfortably before the boat is due.”