” “Oh, well!” he said, a little doubtfully, “it’s just a phase,” and bent down and rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, with his heart beating and his nerves a-quiver. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. Lucy spotted Michelle and Missy, who were in the middle of the theater talking to a group of boys, one of which appeared to be the widely coveted Josh Durkin. She took up a book and threw it down again. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. .
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