of her. She did not at all resent his using Walter's pet name for her;
it sounded beautifully in his low caressing tones, with just the
faintest suggestion of emphasis on the "my." It would have been so nice
if she had not made a fool of herself. She dared not look up lest she
should see laughter in his eyes. So she looked down; and as her lashes
were very long and dark and her lids very thick and creamy, the effect
was quite charming and provocative, and Kenneth reflected that Rilla
Blythe was going to be the beauty of the Ingleside girls after all. He
wanted to make her look up--to catch again that little, demure,
questioning glance. She was the prettiest thing at the party, there was
no doubt of that.

What was he saying? Rilla could hardly believe her ears.

"Can we have a dance?"

"Yes," said Rilla. She said it with such a fierce determination not to
lisp that she fairly blurted the word out. Then she writhed in spirit
again. It sounded so bold--so eager--as if she were fairly jumping at
him! What would he think of her? Oh, why did dreadful things like this
happen, just when a girl wanted to appear at her best?

Kenneth drew her in among the dancers.

"I think this game ankle of mine is good for one hop around, at least,"
he said.

"How is your ankle?" said Rilla. Oh, why couldn't she think of something
else to say? She knew he was sick of inquiries about his ankle. She had
heard him say so at Ingleside--heard him tell Di he was going to wear a