going on that way for five years. One day Kittie was playing tennis with
George at the Country Club, and he had been very kind to her, and all of
a sudden Kittie told him she knew all, and how sorry she was for him,
and that if he would wait till she grew up she would marry him herself.
The poor child was so young, you see, that she did not know how
unmaidenly this was. And of course at St. Catharine's when they taught
us how to enter and leave rooms and how to act in society and at the
table, they didn't think to tell us not to ask young men to marry us. I
can add with confidence that Kittie James was the only girl who ever
did. I asked the rest afterwards, and they were deeply shocked at the
idea.

Well, anyhow, Kittie did it, and she said George was just as nice as he
could be. He told her he had "never listened to a more alluring
proposition" (she remembered just the words he used), and that she was
"a little trump"; and then he said he feared, alas! it was impossible,
as even his strong manhood could not face the prospect of the long and
dragging years that lay between. Besides, he said, his heart was already
given, and he guessed he'd better stick to Josephine, and would his
little sister help him to get her? Kittie wiped her eyes and said she
would. She had been crying. It must indeed be a bitter experience to
have one's young heart spurned! But George took her into the club-house
and gave her tea and lots of English muffins and jam, and somehow Kittie
cheered up, for she couldn't help feeling there were still some things
in life that were nice.

Of course after that she wanted dreadfully to help George, but there
didn't seem to be much she could do. Besides, she had to go right back
to school in September, and being a studious child, I need hardly add
that her entire mind was then given to her studies. When she went home