Lloyd comes along; the fellow's arms are like flails. You---" the
old man opened a reluctant door, peered into a glassed space
filled with muddy shelves and empty flower-pots and spiderwebs.
"It's not here," he stated. Then he began again, "You brought
Cherry home last night?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact, I didn't," Peter answered, in his quick,
precise tones. "I came with Lloyd and Cherry as far as the bridge,
then I cut up the hill. Why?" he added sharply. "What's up?"

"Nothing's up," Doctor Strickland said slowly. "But I think that
Lloyd admires--or is beginning to admire--her," he said.

"Who--Cherry!" Peter exclaimed, with distaste and incredulity in
his tone.

"You don't think so?" the doctor, looking at him wistfully, asked
eagerly.

"Why, certainly not!" Peter said quickly. "Certainly not," he
added, frowning, with his eyes narrowed, and his look fixed upon
the vista of woodland.

"I had a fancy that he might have been putting notions into her
head," her father said, anxious to be reassured.

"But--great Scott!" Peter said, his face very red, "she's much
younger than Anne and Alix--"

"It doesn't always go by that," the doctor suggested.