"If I had known you were calling, Miss
Sumner," he said, "I shouldn't have growled so."
"Well, you're forgiven--for several reasons, but principally for
sending me that delicious blackberry pie. Of course, it discoloured
my teeth temporarily, but I don't care. The pie was worth it, and you
were awfully dear to think of sending it. Thank you so much."
"Glad you liked it, Miss Sumner. I dare to hope that I may have the
privilege of seeing you soon again."
"Of course. One good pie deserves another. Some evening next week,
when that dear old daddy of yours can spare his boy, you might be
interested to see our burl-redwood-panelled dining room Uncle Seth is
so proud of. I'm too recent an arrival to know the hour at which
Uncle Seth dines, but I'll let you know later and name a definite
date. Would Thursday night be convenient?"
"Perfectly. Thank you a thousand times."
She bade him good-night. As he turned from the telephone, his father
looked up. "What are you going to do to-morrow, lad?" he queried.
"I have to do some thinking to-morrow," Bryce answered. "So I'm going
up into Cardigan's Redwoods to do it. Up there a fellow can get set,
as it were, to put over a thought with a punch in it."
"The dogwoods and rhododendron are blooming now," the old man
murmured wistfully.
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