“Well, indeed, an’ he did,” Mrs. Pugsley said resentfully; “but she would be studyin’. She’s that set on it.” “Miss Graham is devoted to mathematics,” Dick began miserably, “and--and that sort of thing”-- He stopped so abruptly that Mrs. Pugsley’s hoarse whisper to Dave Duggan was audible to all,-- “Say, is he Annie’s feller?” “Hush!” said Dave Duggan. Dick drank his tumbler of iced tea with violent haste, and even Johnny looked disconcerted. Annie said something about the roses. “The thing I miss most in South Bend are the gardens,” she said. “You know we are all working people on this side of the river, and there are no old houses, so there are no beautiful big gardens. I had to walk far out into the country for those.” “Won’t you have anything more?” Johnny inquired hospitably. “Take another helping of something? You won’t? Oh, now, take a taste of this! No? Well, let’s go into the parlor, Annie.” If Annie held back, no one saw it. They went into the best room, where Johnny set all the gas burners flaring, that the full glories of the decorations might strike the visitor, who, indeed, saw nothing but Annie’s set face. “Miss Graham,” he said, “you are coming East again in September, aren’t you?” “I think not; I think I must never leave father again. He is not very strong, and I want to be with him.” “Oh, yes, quite so,” Dick answered, “but”-- “But what, Mr. Temple?” “Oh, nothing; I only thought--I thought you were to teach in the college, and”-- He did not know how to end his sentence; he caught Dave Duggan’s eyes glowering at him, and Johnny’s rather obsequious smile. Johnny had the true American veneration for wealth, and he felt that this gentleman who kept a hack waiting for an hour was a rich man. “I shall never leave my father,” Annie said, in a low voice. Now Richard Temple was not a mean or unworthy man; he was a well-born, well-bred, well-educated young American gentleman; but he had been placed suddenly at a cruel disadvantage; his presence of mind deserted him--he was bewildered and confounded. His plans and hopes were all adrift. He could not meet Annie Graham’s eyes again; he said good-night, at first effusively, and then haughtily; and sneaked out to his carriage, anxious only to escape from an intolerable situation. “Hope you’ll come again and talk over old times with Annie, sir,” Johnny said, shaking Dick’s hand all the time that he was speaking; “you’ll call again, sir?” “Oh, certainly, yes, of course,” Dick answered wretchedly. But Annie knew better. * * * * * Dave Duggan had watched Annie’s visitor with burning eyes. He followed the conversation with painful intentness, and a sense of speed which made him breathless. He wished to join in it,--and kept moistening his lips and clearing his throat, but he never found the courage to speak. His shyness probably prevented him from being rude; for his feeling about Dick was rage, pure and simple.