III


THE GREEN MOUSE


_Showing the Value of a Helping Hand When It Is White and Slender_

This time he went leisurely to the door and opened it; a girl stood
there, saying, "I beg your pardon for disturbing you--" It was high time
she admitted it, for her eyes had been disturbing him day and night since
the first time he passed her in the hall.

She appeared to be a trifle frightened, too, and, scarcely waiting for
his invitation, she stepped inside with a hurried glance behind her, and
walked to the center of the room holding her skirts carefully as though
stepping through wet grass.

"I--I am annoyed," she said in a voice not perfectly under command. "If
you please, would you tell me whether there is such a thing as a pea-
green mouse?"

Then he did a mean thing; he could have cleared up that matter with a
word, a smile, and--he didn't.

"A green mouse?" he repeated gently, almost pitifully.

She nodded, then paled; he drew a big chair toward her, for her knees
trembled a little; and she sat down with an appealing glance that ought
to have made him ashamed of himself.