"I am a veritable drunkard with tea, and as for music—ask Jake, out there sitting on the cliffs in the darkness, if I like music. He knows. Ask me, as I lie in my hammock here, night after night, waiting for you to begin,—if Jake likes music, and the answer will satisfy you just how much both of us appreciate it.
"But, I am very sorry I shall be unable to avail myself of your kind invitation to come to-morrow evening."
My new friend could not disguise her surprise. I almost fancied I traced a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.
"No!" was all she said, and she said it ever so quietly.
"I have a pupil coming to-morrow evening for her first real lesson in English Grammar. She has waited long for it. The book I desired to start her in with has only arrived. She would be terribly disappointed if I were now to postpone that lesson."
"Your pupil is a lady?"
"Yes!—a sweet little girl called Rita Clark, who lives at the ranch at the other side of the Crescent. She comes here often. You must have noticed her."
"What!—that pretty, olive-skinned girl, with the dark hair and dark eyes?
"Yes! I have noticed her and I have never since ceased to envy her complexion and her woodland beauty. I would give all I have to look as she does.
"You are most fortunate in your choice of a pupil?"