"But father is so good and kind, Joe," she
began. "Why don't you try to please him? He does n't ask much of you, and
it 's all for your own good. It 's not as though you were a fool, like some
boys. If you would only study a little bit--"
"That 's it! Lecturing!" he exploded, tearing his hand roughly away. "Even
you are beginning to lecture me now. I suppose the cook and the stable-boy
will be at it next."
He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked forward into a melancholy
and desolate future filled with interminable lectures and lecturers
innumerable.
"Was that what you wanted me for?" he demanded, turning to go.
She caught at his hand again. "No, it wasn't; only you looked so worried
that I thought--I--" Her voice broke, and she began again freshly. "What
I wanted to tell you was that we're planning a trip across the bay to
Oakland, next Saturday, for a tramp in the hills."
"Who 's going?"
"Myrtle Hayes--"
"What! That little softy?" he interrupted.
"I don't think she is a softy," Bessie answered with spirit. "She 's one
of the sweetest girls I know."
"Which is n't saying much, considering the girls you know. But go on. Who
are the others?"
"Pearl Sayther, and her sister Alice, and Jessie Hilborn, and Sadie French,
and Edna Crothers. That 's all the girls."
Joe sniffed disdainfully.
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