"I'm Bart Holt," he exclaimed; "you haven't forgotten me, Miss Lucy, have you?
We used to play together.
Mighty glad to see you--been expecting you for a week." Lucy colored slightly and arched her head in a coquettish way.

His frankness pleased her; so did the look of unfeigned admiration in his eyes.
"Why, of course I haven't forgotten you, Mr.Holt.It was so nice of you to come," and she gave him the tips of her fingers--her own eyes meanwhile, in one comprehensive glance, taking in his round head with its closely cropped curls, searching brown eyes, wavering mouth, broad shoulders, and shapely body, down to his small, well-turned feet.

The young fellow lacked the polish and well-bred grace of the doctor, just as he lacked his well-cut clothes and distinguished manners, but there was a sort of easy effrontery and familiar air about him that some of his women admirers encouraged and others shrank from.

Strange to say, this had appealed to Lucy before he had spoken a word.
"And you've come home for good now, haven't you ?" His eyes were still drinking in the beauty of the girl, his mind neither on his questions nor her answers.
"Yes, forever and ever," she replied, with a laugh that showed her white teeth.
"Did you like it at school ?" It was her lips now that held his attention and the little curves under her dimpled chin.

He thought he had never seen so pretty a mouth and chin.
"Not always; but we used to have lots of fun," answered the girl, studying him in return--the way his cravat was tied and the part of his hair.