I don't know anything about them myself,
but I saw my brother Thorne once put that one you're reading in the
stove and jam on the cover, as if he were afraid it would get out. Do
you wonder I don't like to see Lucy Peyton reading it?" asked Evelyn
gently, with her cheek against the other girl's.
"He must be a terrible Miss Nancy, then," said Lucy, defiantly. "There's
not a thing in it that couldn't be in a Sunday-school book. The heroine
is the sweetest thing."
"If she is she won't mind your putting her down and coming out for a
walk with me," answered Evelyn, with a smile which might have captivated
Lucy if she had seen it. But the younger girl got up and flung away out
of the room, murmuring that she did not feel like walking, and would
take herself and her book where they would not bother people.
Evelyn looked after her with a little sigh, and owned that Jeff might be
right in thinking that mere gentle argument with Lucy would have scant
effect on a head full of nonsense or a heart whose love for the sweet
and true had had far too little development.
Half an hour before the time set for the rendezvous at the summer-house
that night Jeff and Just walked down the path, shoulder to shoulder,
talking under their breath.
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