company. I will go home with you."

Susie took the strong arm that was held out to her, and leaned upon it
with a mingled feeling of confidence and dread as they walked home through
the balmy night under the clear, starry heaven of the early spring. The
air was full of the quickening breath of May.

Susie Barringer waited in vain for some signal of battle from Allen
Golyer. He talked more than usual, but in a grave, quiet, protecting
style, very different from his former manner of worshiping bashfulness.
His tone had in it an air of fatherly caressing which was inexpressibly
soothing to his pretty companion, tired and lonely with her silent
struggle of the past month. When they came to her gate and he said
good-night, she held his hand a moment with a tremulous grasp, and spoke
impulsively: "Al, I once told you something I never told anybody else.
I'll tell you something else now, because I believe I can trust you."

"Be sure of that, Susie Barringer."

"Well, Al, my engagement is broken off."

"I am sorry for you, Susie, if you set much store by him."

Miss Susie answered with great and unnecessary impetuosity, "I don't, and
I am glad of it!" and then ran into the house and to bed, her cheeks all
aflame at the thought of her indiscretion, and yet with a certain comfort
in having a friend from whom she had no secrets.

I protest there was no thought of coquetry in the declaration which Susan
Barringer blurted out to her old lover under the sympathetic starlight of