Emma Frost came from the school of belief that you let children make their own mistakes. Especially when it came to romance. It was the only way they really learned. She wouldn't have interrupted the scene if not for the fact that she knew Logan was around. If he caught his daughter with a young man of Gar's age, there was no guarantee that Gar would have been able to walk back home. It would have led to a fight and all sorts of unpleasantness that she'd much rather avoid.
"Children," Emma said by way of greeting in a tone that was cool and slightly amused.
"Hello, mother." Rose felt her face burn.
"Don't forget your curfew, Rose." Emma glanced down at her watch. "You only have a few minutes." She turned then, sparing Gar a glance - not entirely unfriendly but with a chilly glint to it. It was the briefest of mental images she sent him, but she was clear. If he took advantage of her daughter, he'd be in a world of pain. She went back inside then, to give them a moment.
Rose ran a hand through her hair. She wanted to swear. "Sorry," she mumbled, still pink.