“Going up by the timber lot, around by the cool road. The girls are on before.”
“Ah, so?” said the young man, evidently waiting for an invitation.
“Do you care to come? It's not much longer that way,” said Larry.
“I might,” said the young man. Then looking doubtfully at his sister, “You cannot come very well, Dorothea, can you?”
“No, that is, I'm afraid not,” she replied. She was a pretty girl with masses of yellow hair, light blue eyes, a plump, kindly face and a timid manner. As she spoke she, true to her German training, evidently waited for an indication of her brother's desire.
“There are the cows, you know,” continued her brother.
“Yes, there are the cows,” her face clouding as she spoke.
“Oh, rot!” said Larry, “you don't milk until evening, and we get back before tea. Come along.”
Still the girl hesitated. “Well,” said her brother brusquely, “do you want to come?”
She glanced timidly at his rather set face and then at Larry. “I don't know. I am afraid that—”