It would be fun, she mused, to walk with him through this main street while those on both sides of it craned their necks and asked one another who he was. More fun yet to dash through its shaded arch of trees in a smart little car, talking and laughing with him all the way, and pretending to be unconscious of the staring spectators, although of course she would be seeing them all perfectly well out of the corner of her eye.
She had done this sometimes with Hortie Fuller, simply because she knew every girl in Alton City envied her his devotion.
But what was Hortie compared with Mr. Stanley Heath?
Sylvia tilted her small up-tilted nose even higher.
So occupied was she with these dramatic fancies she had not thought once of Prince Hal. In fact she had supposed that he had gone up the beach with Marcia.
Now she suddenly became aware that he stood sniffing about the hearth, scratching at its surface as if he scented something beneath.
He must not do that, and she told him so in no uncertain terms.
Nevertheless, in spite of the rebuke, he continued to poke away at the spot, whining faintly, until his persistence aroused her curiosity and she went to see what disturbed him.
One brick projected ever so slightly from the others, and it was at this the setter was clawing.
"What is it, Prince? What's the matter?" whispered she.