The branch cracked ominously as Trenton leaned yet a little further.
“John!” cried the young lady, sharply, “cease your fooling and come down from that rock.”
The artist instantly recovered his position, and, coming back, sprang down to the ground again.
Miss Sommerton drew back in alarm; but Trenton merely put his hands in his pockets, and said—
“Well, Eva, I came back because you called me.”
“It was a case of coercion,” she said. “You English are too fond of coercion. We Americans are against it.”
“Oh, I am a Home Ruler, if you are,” replied the artist. “Miss Eva, I am going to risk my third and last question, and I shall await the answer with more anxiety than I ever felt before in my life. The question is this: Will—”
“Hello! there you are. Thank Heaven! I was never so glad to see anybody in my life,” cried the cheery voice of Ed. Mason, as he broke through the bushes towards them.
Trenton looked around with anything but a welcome on his brow. If Mason had never been so glad in his life to see anybody, it was quite evident his feeling was not entirely reciprocated by the artist.
“How the deuce did you get here?” asked Trenton. “I was just looking for you down the river.”