had had exactly those growing pains for months following that experience
with him on the front porch after the dance four years ago. And I had
had change of scene and occupation to help.

"I don't understand him at all," faltered Nell, and she raised her eyes
as she bared her wound to me.

"Nell," I said with trepidation, as I began on this my first disciple,
"you aren't a bit ashamed or embarrassed or humiliated in showing me
that you love me, are you?"

"You know I've adored you ever since I could toddle at your heels,
Evelina," she answered, and the love-message her great brown eyes
flashed into mine was as sweet as anything that ever happened to me.

"Then, why should you wonder and suffer and restrain and be humiliated
at your love for Polk?" I asked, firing point blank at all of Nell's
traditions. "Why not tell him about it and ask him if he loves you?"

The shot landed with such force that Nell gasped, but answered as
straight out from the shoulder as I had aimed.

"I would rather die than have Polk Hayes know how he--he affects me,"
she answered with her head held high.

"Then, what you feel for him is not worthy love, but something entirely
unworthy," I answered loftily, with a very poor imitation of Jane's
impressiveness of speech.

"I know it," she faltered into my shoulder, "if it were Mr. James Hardin