She looked up at him, startled, but met only a quiet smile. "How did you--I didn't mean you----"

"I know you did n't--and you were very kind not to show how you must have felt. Perhaps it would be in better taste for me not to mention it at all. But I wanted you to know that I appreciated your courtesy in accepting the situation."

"But how----"

"I found out--from a little slip of Miss Shirley's. I wanted to go home, of course, but--I could n't make up my mind to spoil my sister's evening, and besides--I thought your brother's invitation made it right for us to be here."

Olive's dark face was colouring warmly. She looked down at her roses, wondering what to say. Somehow she found herself unwilling to let Peter Bell think she did n't want him at her party, for it was becoming clear to her that she did.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured. "But I'm very glad you did n't go home.

If I had known you longer I 'm sure I should have invited----"

"Don't bother to explain," urged Peter's low voice. "'I did n't tell you to make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you won't mind my saying that looking on at this sort of thing is very interesting to me. I 've never seen it before."

"How do you like it?" asked Olive, glancing up at him curiously.

Peter laughed, looking off for a moment toward the drawing-room. "I 'm an outdoor sort of chap, I think," he said. "Yet it's very pretty, all that down there, and I like to look at it. Miss Townsend, do you ride horseback much?"

"Sometimes--not often. I don't care for it."

"Neither should I, down the boulevard or in the park, but out on a country road. I 'm a country boy, and I like a good gallop down the old Northboro Road--miles of it as smooth as a floor. As for cross-country--ah, there's sport!"

"I 've never seen you ride."

Peter's face changed. "No, I don't ride now," he said.

"But you have Sat.u.r.day afternoons free?"

"Oh, yes."

"There are three saddle-horses in the stable," said Olive, making a sudden resolve, "and only one of them gets much use. Would you--care to take me for a gallop down the Northboro Road some day?"

That she should make such a proposition as this would have seemed to Olive Townsend but an hour before preposterous. But now, looking up at the st.u.r.dy figure before her, noting the wistful smile with which Peter had spoken of past experiences, it had come to her all at once that a new pleasure might be hers. She saw plainly that she should not be ashamed of Peter as an escort anywhere.

Peter stared at his hostess for a moment as if he could hardly believe that he had heard aright. "Do you really mean that, Miss Townsend?" he asked.

"Indeed I do. I 'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean."

"Then, thank you, I should like it immensely," he said, with a smile and bow, more attractive, Olive admitted to herself, than any she had received that evening.

CHAPTER VI

WEEDS AND FLOWERS

"Good morning, Miss Jane Bell! May I come in?"

Jane lifted her head quickly from over the phlox-bed she was weeding in the little garden back of the house, to see Forrest Townsend looking over the wooden gate which shut away the garden from the surrounding neighborhood.

"Good morning! Yes, indeed, come in," she responded blithely, waving a discarded white ruffled sunbonnet at her guest. He vaulted over the low barrier and came swinging down the narrow path to the end of the enclosure, where the phlox-bed lay. Here he stood still, regarding with favour the girl in the blue dress, whose bronze-tinted hair glinted in the early June sunlight.

"Always busy at something, are n't you?" he said, tipping over a bushel-basket half-filled with weeds, and seating himself upon it.

"Yes, I know I 've spilled out the weeds, but I 'll pick 'em up again when I 'm through. I came over to have a serious talk with you, and I 've got to be down here near you, where I can look you in the eye. The gra.s.s is too damp yet to sit on in white trousers."

Jane laughed. "It can't be a very serious matter that's troubling you, or you would n't think of your clothes."

"It is serious, though. I 'm full of it, and can't stop to talk about the weather, so here goes.--I 've quarrelled with my father."

Jane, who had thus far not ceased her weeding, stopped work and sat still to look at her neighbour. He met her gaze defiantly.

"Yes, I know. You think this is another case of schoolboy heroics, like the last fuss I told you I had with him--"

"I wish you would n't tell me."

"I 've got to tell somebody. Come, Jane--you 've grown to seem like the best friend I have--don't turn the cold shoulder on me just when I need you. You know what my mother and sister are like----"

With a gesture of disapproval Jane turned away to her work.

Forrest watched her for a moment in silence; then he began again:

"All right, I won't complain if you 'll just let me tell you about this last sc.r.a.pe. There 's n.o.body else I can talk to--you know enough about us to know that."

"There ought to be. Your brother----"

"Oh, Murray! With all respect to him--since you insist on respect--he 's not off the same piece of cloth with me, and can't understand me any more than I can him. His blood is n't good red blood at all; it's white, I think, and I----"

Jane rose up from her knees and stood above her visitor, determination on her frank face.

"Forrest Townsend," said she, "if you can talk to me without running down your family, I 'll listen, but not otherwise. I don't think you ought to tell me your affairs at all, but if you 're sure I can be of use I 'll hear them, on that one condition."

Forrest studied her a moment without replying, while her clear hazel eyes returned his gaze. Then he laughed rather awkwardly.

"You 're the soul of honour, are n't you?" he said. "And that's just why I need your advice. I don't want to do anything dishonourable, but I 'm in a corner, and don't see any way out except a jump over the wall. Let me tell you--please!"

Jane dropped upon her knees again and gave her attention to her work.

Taking this as permission, Forrest began, picking up a long, pink-headed weed and pulling it through his fingers as he talked.

"I 've known all the while father wanted me in the house with him, and wanted me to go to college with that end in view. We 've had a few brushes on the subject from time to time, and I 've told him over and over I never meant to go to college, or to go into the business, either, but he 's thought it boy talk, I suppose. Anyhow, it turns out he's never taken me seriously when I 've told him I meant to live my own life in my own way. He had me tutored all last winter, to get me ready for my entrance examinations, and he expects me to go down and take them next week. That 's where I balked. He tackled me last night, and I had it out with him. The result was"--Forrest tried to keep up the nonchalant manner he had a.s.sumed when he began this explanation, but his voice showed his strong feeling as he ended the sentence--"the result was--he gave it to me hot and heavy, and I--talked back at him. In short, I----"

Jane, her pretty lips set close together, her troubled eyes on the ground, listened anxiously for the words.

"You don't mean----" she began, slowly.

Forrest nodded, and she caught the gesture. It brought her head round and her eyes to search his. "You didn't--say you wouldn't do what he wants?"

"I did--and meant it."