As I watched the continuance of the battle, the raging, storming men, charging and clashing through entangled sticks and ringing skates, I found my mind occupied with the problem of whether Mr. Bang’s championing of the Leafs was due to predilections for them, or to mere opposition.
The finish came, the Beavers away in the lead and Lien the darling of the populace. With the close of the contest a stream of figures jumped over the boards to the ice and crowded round the players, and in me was awakened a spirit of pride, as I noticed the marked demonstrations directed towards Lien.
Slowly the masses moved towards the exits. The shoutings had died away and in its place was the shuffling of feet and the clatter of conversation. With my cavalier I passed towards the street.
A woman hailed Mr. Bang; he turned to her. She had a clever face, with kind eyes and was dressed in workable, rather than fashionable clothes.
“So this is your Little Partner; well, she’s all you said of her.” She beamed at me.
“Yes, this is she,” and turning to me, Mr. Bang said, “Let me introduce you to Mrs. Malone.”
I greeted Mrs. Malone with warmth; had she not spoken well of me, and did not Uncle say she could make or break any boy or girl in the social world.
“Wasn’t he lovely?” I asked with enthusiasm.
“You mean Charlie Lien? Yes, he’s a wonderful boy if he does not get his head turned. I suppose this was quite a novelty to you?” Mrs. Malone accompanied the question with a smile, so good natured that her question did not appear the least patronizing.
“Believe me, she is quite a fan,” put in Mr. Bang, whereat I laughed.