Piqued by her tantalizing manner, he asked, "What particular social functions are about to occur that may possibly open a passage into your guarded presence?"
She seemed immersed in thought, her face turned partially aside. "Unfortunately, I have not my list of engagements here," and she glanced about at him shyly. "I can recall only one at present, and I am not even certain—that is, I do not promise—to attend that. However, I may do so. The Miners' Bachelor Club gives a reception and ball to-morrow evening in honor of the new schoolmistress."
"What is her name?" with responsive eagerness.
She hesitated, as if doubtful of the strict propriety of mentioning it to a stranger.
"Miss Phoebe Spencer," she said, her eyes cast demurely down.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, in open triumph; "and have I, then, at last made fair capture of your secret? You are Miss Phoebe Spencer."
She drew back still farther within the recesses of the bushes, at his single victorious step forward.
"I? Why certainly not. I am merely Miss Spencer's 'star' pupil, so you may easily judge something of what her superior attainments must necessarily be. But I am really going now, and I sincerely trust you will be able to secure a ticket for to-morrow night; for if you once meet this Miss Spencer you will never yield another single thought to me, Mr.—Mr.—" her eyes dancing with laughter—"First Lieutenant Donald Brant."