They were in the midst of luncheon, which was spread out on a vast
table-cloth covering ten or fifteen square feet of ground, when he arose
solemnly and bearing his plate in his hand came over and sat down on the
grass alongside of Polly. In his khaki uniform, with his hair, skin and
clothes so much the same color, he was far less countrified, indeed,
almost good looking the girl conceded to herself, while waiting for him
to speak first, giving her the clue to his attitude toward her.
"You were awfully kind the other day and, I am much obliged to you," he
said a trifle awkwardly, but with gracious intention. "I am afraid I
should have had rather an uncomfortable time of it but for you."
Polly cast her eyes demurely toward her lap, turning her head slightly
to one side, "I am afraid you did have an uncomfortable time anyhow. I
was very sorry." She had flushed the least little bit, but her lips
were twitching with amusement.
The young fellow smiled. "Oh, don't you be sorry," he protested, "leave
that to the guilty person, or I am afraid she may keep you being sorry
for her sins all the days of your life."
"I will not!" Polly snapped, in such evident irritation that the young
man leaned deliberately over her shoulder staring into her face.
Pages:
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147