Tish couldn’t explain even to herself why that was so important, but she was suddenly tongue-tied and shy around him. To make it worse, he could bring a scarlet blush to her cheeks just by looking at her, a pastime he seemed to enjoy. Breakfast, for instance, was becoming an ordeal.“One of the girls I know at school is getting married next month,” Eileen remarked one morning over bacon and eggs and fresh, hot biscuits. “She got a job in the office after she graduated, and she’s marrying Mr. Jameson. He’s the physical science teacher.”“He’s a good bit older than your friend, I suppose,” Tish said, her eyes on the yellow mound of moist scrambled eggs on her plate.“Oh, yes, he’s ancient,” Eileen said, drawling out the word. “He’s twenty-eight.”“Twenty-eight?” Tish said in mock horror, with a mischievous glance at Russell, who was leaning back in his chair with one eyebrow raised over glittering dark eyes. “My goodness, he’s almost ready for the home, isn’t he?”Russell’s dark eyes dropped to that portion of her anatomy which was visible above the table.
