"I think I remember the girl you mean." John was not absorbing the compliment. "She is a tall, dark girl, as straight as an Indian squaw. She stopped one day and asked me some questions about the rooms on the lower floor. Sam come and showed her around— I was too busy. Sam's on the ladies' entertainment committee— I am not."
"She told me she had never met you." Tilly leaned toward him as she spoke. She clasped her hands over her knee. She was staring steadily, her eyes flashing. "Oh, my! what won't some girls do to get in with a new man? Huh! She has failed to get at you in every other way and is now making a cat's-paw of me."
"I declare I don't know what you mean," John asserted, "but if you are in earnest—about the party, I mean—why, you can count me in. I've never been a party man—I wouldn't know what to do or say—but if you will go with me, I'll be ready long before you are, I'll bet you. I'll hire a horse and buggy at the livery-stable, and—"
"Oh no, I seldom ride," Tilly protested. "It is only about a mile and we can walk that far in pretty weather like this. They all live close about except Joel Eperson. He always drives in and brings his sister, Martha Jane."
"Oh, so he's going—that feller is going!" John exclaimed in a crestfallen tone. "I see—I see—he's going."
"Yes. He is Sally's first cousin."
The uncouth mason sat silent. He folded his ponderous hands and scowled as he did when displeased with the work of a bungling assistant. Tilly was covertly and studiously regarding his profile.
"Why do you say it like that?" she inquired. "Is there anything strange about Joel going to a party?"
"Strange? Not if he knows you are to be there. Does he?"
"I suppose he does think I may be there, but what of it—what of it?"