William looked twice at this girl. First, because the splash of color
against her brown coat had called his attention to the fact that she was
wearing a pink; and secondly because she was very pretty, and her dark
eyes carried a peculiarly wistful appeal.
"Too bad Bertram isn't here," thought William. "He'd be sketching that
face in no time on his cuff."
The pink had given William almost a pang. He had been so longing to see
a pink--though in a different place. He wondered sympathetically if she,
too, had come to meet some one who had not appeared. He noticed that she
walked away from the gate once or twice, toward the waiting-room, and
peered anxiously through the glass doors; but always she came back to
the gate as if fearful to be long away from that place. He forgot all
about her very soon, for her movements had given him a sudden idea:
perhaps Billy was in the waiting-room. How stupid of him not to think of
it before! Doubtless they had missed each other in the crowd, and Billy
had gone straight to the waiting-room to look for him. And with this
thought William hurried away at once, leaving the girl still standing by
the gate alone.
He looked everywhere. Systematically he paced up and down between the
long rows of seats, looking for a boy with a pink. He even went out upon
the street, and gazed anxiously in all directions.
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