"
"I don't know much about rich young men."
"You've certainly kept this one at a distance," Louis observed, eying
his sister curiously in the twilight. She was sitting in a boyish
attitude, racket on lap, elbows on knees, chin on clasped hands, eyes on
the shadowy garden. "He's been coming here evening after evening until
now that his grandfather has gone home, and never once has anybody seen
you so much as standing on the porch with him, to say nothing of
strolling into the garden. What's the matter with you, Rob? Any other
girl would be following him round and getting into his path. Not that
you would need to, judging by the way I've seen him look at you once or
twice. Have you drawn an imaginary circle around yourself and pointed
out to him the danger of crossing it? I should take him for a fellow who
would cross it then anyhow!"
"Imaginary circles are sometimes bigger barriers than stone walls," she
admitted, smiling to herself, "Besides, Lou, I thought somebody else was
the person you wanted to see walking in the garden with me."
"Forbes? The person I expected to see, you mean. Well, I don't know
about Forbes Westcott.
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