some temper, too, and don't you make any mistake."

Ethel was beginning to have a real friendly feeling for Harvey. He asked
many questions about her cousin Kate.

"She rings true," he said. "I liked her from the first."

"She _is_ true," replied Ethel. "You'll see her this summer, and I'm sure
you'll like Uncle John and his wife. He's just a dear."

Those were red letter days for Ethel. She enjoyed the air, the
scenery, and the rides; and she enjoyed talking to Harvey, for now
that he understood she could talk to him as though he were one of
the family--without restriction and without embarrassment.

"What puzzles me," said Ethel, "is the way our mothers argue. When they
plan our marriages it's only money and position. Love never seems to
enter into their heads. Oh! I grew so tired of it. Thank God it's over,
and our family are now normal. Even Grandmother wished me to marry well.
I had far rather be an old maid than to be tied to a man for whom I care
nothing, and have to sit opposite and pour tea for him three hundred and
sixty-five days in a year. Imagine the horrible monotony of that. I heard
that advice given to a girl in a play and I never forgot it; and if only
girls could be brought to realize beforehand the sin of it there would be
fewer unhappy marriages."




CHAPTER IV