"Why, of course," returned Fanny, the color rising swiftly to her
face.
She had caught a glimpse of Wesley Elliot edging his way past a group
of the younger boys and girls, mad with the revelry of unlimited cake
and ice cream. He was coming directly toward their corner; his eyes,
alas! fixed upon the stranger in their midst. Unconsciously Fanny
sighed deeply; the corners of her smiling lips drooped. She appeared
all at once like a lovely rose which some one has worn for an hour
and cast aside.
"It's such a little thing to do," murmured Lydia.
Then, before Fanny was aware of her intention, she had slipped away.
At the same moment Judge Fulsom made his appearance, elbowing his
smiling way through the crowd, a brimming saucer of vari-colored ice
cream in each hand.
"Here we are!" he announced cheerfully. "Had to get a _habeas corpus_
on this ice cream, though. Why, what's become of Miss Orr? Gone with
a handsomer man--eh?"
He stared humorously at the minister.
"Twa'n't you, dominie; seen' you're here. Had any ice cream yet? No
harm done, if you have. Seems to be a plenty. Take this, parson, and
I'll replevin another plate for myself and one for Miss Orr. Won't be
gone more'n another hour."
Fanny, piteously tongue-tied in the presence of the man she loved,
glanced up at Wesley Elliot with a timidity she had never before felt
in his company. His eyes under close-drawn brows were searching the
crowd. Fanny divined that she was not in his thoughts.
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