keep away from him.

But it happened that Madeline Taylor was the particular peach that Willis
Hubbard hankered after. He didn't like them too easy, ready to drop from
the bough at the first touch. All the same, he meant to have his way in
the end with Madeline. He had an excellent opinion of his powers as a
conquering male. He had, alas, plenty of data to warrant it in his
relations with the fair and sometimes weak sex.

"What's your hurry, dearie?" he asked now. "Come on for a spin. It's the
pink of the evening."

But she thanked him stiffly and refused, remembering Ted Holiday's honest
blue eyes.

"What are you so almighty prunes and prisms for, all of a sudden? It's
the wrong game to play with a man, I can tell you, if you want to have a
good time in the world. I say, Maidie, be a good girl and come out with
me to-morrow night. We'll have dinner somewhere and dance and make a
night of it. Say yes, you beauty. A girl like you oughtn't to stay cooped
up at home forever. It's against nature."

But again Madeline refused and moved away with dignity.

"Your grandfather will never know. You can plan to stay with Linda
afterward. I'll meet you by the sycamore tree just beyond the Bates'
place at eight sharp--give you the best time you ever had in your life.
Believe me, I'm some little spender when I get to going."

"No, thank you, Mr. Hubbard. I tell you I can't go."