He fell into step beside her and gently took the violin box from her hand.
"And how is my little friend to-day?" he asked.
His voice, unusually musical, made Jinnie spontaneously draw a little nearer him.
"I'm very well," she returned, demurely, "and I've learned some very lovely things. I went up twice to-day--sometimes the master makes me come back in the afternoon."
It eased his offended dignity to see her so happy, so vividly lovely. He had gone to Molly with the intention of asking her to go with him some day soon to Mottville. He thought of this now with a grim setting of his teeth; but looking at Jinnie, an idea more to his liking came in its place. He would take her somewhere for a day. She needed just such a day to make her color a little brighter, although as he glanced at her again, he had to admit she was rosy enough. Nevertheless a great desire came over him to ask her; so when they had almost reached the cobbler's shop, he said: "How would a nice holiday suit you?"
Jinnie looked up into his face, startled.
"What do you mean by a holiday? Not to take lessons?"
Theodore caught her thought, and laughed.
"Oh, no, not that! But I was thinking if you would go with me into the country----"
"For a whole day?" gasped Jinnie, stopping point blank.
"Yes, for a whole day," replied Theodore, smiling.
"Oh, I couldn't go. I couldn't."
"Why?... Don't you want to?"
Of course she wanted to go. Jinnie felt that if she knew she was going with him, she'd fly to the sky and back again.
"Yes," she murmured. "I'd like to go, but I couldn't--for lots of reasons!... Lafe wouldn't let me for one, and then Bobbie needs me awfully."
They started on, and Jinnie could see Lafe's window, but not the cobbler himself.
"But I'd bring you back at dusk," Theodore assured her, "and you'd be happy----"
"Happy! Happy!" she breathed, with melting eyes. "I'd be more'n happy, but I can't go."
Theodore raised his hat quickly and left her without another word.