"Yes, I know where the Lawton house is," interrupted Bert, "but Miss Lawton, you said?"
"Don't you remember, Bert," put in James, "there is a kid there—Maude, or something of that sort?"
"No, no, not Maude," persisted Bennington, still more bashfully. "I mean Miss Lawton, the young lady."
He felt that both the youths were looking keenly at him with dawning wonder and delight. "Hold on, Bert," interposed James, as the other was about to exclaim, "do you mean, Ben, the one you've been giving such a rush for the last two months?"
"Miss Lawton and I are very good friends," replied Bennington with dignity, wondering whence James had his information.
Bert drew in his breath sharply, and opened his mouth to speak.
"Hold on, Bert," interposed James again. "There are possibilities in this. Don't destroy artistic development by undue haste. What did you call the young lady, Ben?"
"Miss Lawton, of course!"
"Daughter of Bill Lawton?"
"Why, yes."