"I beg your pardon," she gasped. "I thought Willie was here."
"Mr. Spence has stepped over to the Eldredges'. I'm expecting him back every instant," Bob returned.
The girl's lashes fell. They were long and very beautiful as they lay in a fringe against her cheek, yet exquisite as they were he longed to see her eyes again.
"I'm Miss Morton's nephew from Indiana," the young man managed to stammer, feeling some explanation might bridge the gulf of embarrassment. "I am visiting here."
"Oh!"
Persistently she studied the toe of her shoe. If Bob had thought her appealing before, now, demure against the background of budding apple trees, with a shaft of sunlight on her hair, and the kitten cuddled against her breast, she put to rout the few intelligent ideas remaining to the young man.
Wonderingly, helplessly, he watched while she continued to caress the minute creature in her arms.
"Are you staying here long?" she asked at length, gaining courage to look up.
"I—eh—yes; that is—I hope so," Bob answered with sudden fervor.
"You like Wilton then."