Dick Prescott's Third Year at West Point Part 8

"Oh, don't let me spoil fun," begged Mr. Cameron, half rising, as though hoping to be asked to seat himself again.

"Mr. Cameron," Miss Bentley replied sweetly, rising also as her caller completed the act of getting upon his feet, "I know you will excuse me now, rude as it seems in me to ask it. But Mr.

Prescott's time in Gridley is very limited, and we are all anxious to see as much of him as possible."

"Say no more, Miss Bentley," begged Mr. Cameron, forcing a genial smile. "Mr. Prescott, I congratulate you on having such a good champion. Good afternoon, Laura. Good afternoon, Mr. Prescott; I am very glad indeed to have had the pleasure of meeting you."

"I am most happy to have met you, sir; if it were not for my own great good fortune, and my natural selfishness, I would feel most regretful over being the means of distracting Miss Bentley's attention."

Laura, as soon as she had extended her hand to Mr. Cameron, had run inside to get her hat. By the time that Mr. Cameron had reached the front gate Laura came out again, adjusting a wonderfully becoming bit of headgear.

"I am almost ashamed of myself for having spoiled another's call,"

Prescott told her.

"Oh, don't mind about Mr. Cameron," laughed Laura lightly. "He has plenty opportunity, if he enjoys it, to call at other seasons of the year."

"Oh! Does he?" muttered d.i.c.k. He began to feel a most unwarrantable dislike for Mr. Cameron.

CHAPTER V

ALONG A "DANGEROUS" ROAD

"Oh, yes," smiled Laura. "Mr. Cameron is a frequent visitor."

This information had the effect of making Prescott almost feel that he would enjoy kicking that other young man.

"You are old friends, then?" he asked lightly, as he tucked the thin carriage robe about Laura, then picked up the lines.

"No; quite recent acquaintances. We met about four months ago, I think it was."

Though she spoke with apparent indifference, Prescott covertly caught sight of a slight flush rising to the girl's face.

"After all," muttered d.i.c.k inwardly, "why not? Laura isn't a schoolgirl any longer, and it certainly most be difficult for any young man who has the chance to call to keep away from her!"

So Cadet Prescott tried to persuade himself that it was all very natural for Mr. Cameron to call and for Laura to be glad to see Mr. Cameron. d.i.c.k even tried to feel glad that Laura was receiving attentions---but the effort ended in secret failure.

Then d.i.c.k, as he drove along, tried to tell himself that he didn't care, and that he hadn't any right to care---but in this also he fell short of success with himself.

So he fell silent, without intending to. Laura, on her part, tried to make up for his silence by chatting pleasantly, but after a while she, too, found herself out of words.

Then, for a mile, they drove along almost in complete silence.

Yet Cadet Prescott found plenty of chance to eye her covertly.

What he saw was a beautiful girl, so sweet and wholesome looking that he had hard work, indeed, to keep ardent words from rus.h.i.+ng to his lips.

"She grows sweeter and finer all the time," he muttered to himself.

"Why shouldn't men be eager to call, often and long?"

At last the mare stumbled slightly, and Prescott jerked the animal so quickly and almost savagely on the lines that Miss Bentley looked at him with something of a start.

"d.i.c.k," spoke Laura at last, turning and looking him frankly, sweetly in the eyes, "have I done anything to offend you?"

"You, Laura?"

"I wondered," she continued. "You have been so very silent."

"I am afraid I was thinking," muttered d.i.c.k. "And that's a very rude thing to do when it makes one seem to ignore the lady who is with him," he added, forcing a smile. "I beg your pardon, Laura, ten times over."

"Oh, I don't mind your being abstracted," she answered simply, "so long as I am not the cause of it."

"You-----"

d.i.c.k checked himself quickly.

He had been right on the point of admitting that she had been the cause of his abstraction, and such a statement as that would have called for an abundance of further explanation.

So he forced himself into a peal of laughter that sounded nearly natural.

"If I were to tell you what a ridiculous thing I was thinking about, Laura!" he chuckled.

Then his West Point training against all forms of deceit led him to wondering, at once, whether Mr. Cameron could truthfully be defined as "a ridiculous thing."

"Tell me," smiled the girl patiently.

"Not I," defied Prescott gayly. "Then you would find me more ridiculous than the thing about which I was thinking."

"Oh!" she replied, and the cadet fancied that his companion spoke in a tone of more or less hurt.

But, at least, d.i.c.k could look straight into her face now, as they talked, and every instant he realized more and more keenly how lovely Miss Bentley was growing to be.

They were driving down sweet-scented country lanes now. The whole scene fitted romance. The cadet remembered Flirtation Walk, at West Point, and it struck him that there was danger, at the present moment, of Flirtation Drive.

"I wonder what the dear girl is thinking about at this present moment?" pondered d.i.c.k.

"I wonder what it was that made him so abstracted, and then so suddenly merry?" was the thought in Miss Bentley's mind.

"That was a very pretty road we came through before we turned into this one," commented d.i.c.k at a hazard.

"I didn't notice it," replied Laura. "Where are we now? Oh, yes! I know the locality now."

"You have driven out here before---with Mr. Cameron?"

The words were out ere Cadet Prescott could recall them. He felt indescribably angry with himself. In the first place, the question he had asked was really none of his business. In the second place, his inquiry, under the circ.u.mstances, was a rude one.

"Mr. Cameron was in the party," Laura replied readily. "There was quite a number of us; it was a 'bus ride one May afternoon.

We came out to gather wild flowers."