The material comforts in the form of sandwiches, cakes and pies, gloriously culminating in lemonade and ice cream, while contributing a temporary pleasure, could not obliterate a sense of misery wrought in him by Miss Hazel's chilly indifference.

That young lady, whose smiles so lavishly bestowed only yesterday had made for him a new heaven and a new earth, had to-day merely thrown him a passing glance and a careless "Hello," as she floated by intent on bigger game.
In addition, the boy was conscious of an overpowering lassitude that increased as the day wore on.

His misery and its chief cause had not escaped the observing eyes of the little maid, Jane Brown, whose clear and incisive voice was distinctly audible as she confided to her friend Nora her disappointment in Miss Hazel.
"She won't look at him to-day," she said.

"She's just waiting for the boys to come.

She'll be nicer then." There was no animus in the voice, only surprise and disappointment.