mother--"

Clemency raised her head immediately and gave it an indignant toss.
"There," said she. "I knew it. Very well, if you would rather be my
stepfather, you can, only I think you would be a pretty one, no older,
to speak of, than I am, and I know my mother wouldn't have you anyway.
The idea of your thinking that my mother would get married again anyway,
and especially to you," Clemency said witheringly. She sat up straight
and looked at James. "I wish your father were a widower, then I would
marry him the minute he asked me," said she, "and see how you would
like it. I guess you would have a step-mother who would make you walk
chalk." Clemency tossed her head again. Then she gave a queer little
whimsical glance at James, and both of them burst out laughing, and she
was in his arms again, and he was kissing her. "There, that is enough,"
said she presently. "I once wore out a doll I had kissing her. She was
wax, and it was warm weather, and I actually did wear that doll out. The
color all came off her cheeks, and she got soft."

"You are not a doll, darling," said James fervently, and he would have
kissed her again, but she pushed him away. "No," said she, "I know the
color won't come off my cheeks, but I might get soft like that doll. One
can never tell. You must stop now. I want to talk to you. It is all
right about my mother."

"It was only because I never saw such a woman in all my life before,"
said James. "I never thought of marrying."

"You would have had to take it out in thinking," said Clemency, "but it
is all right. I think myself that my mother is the most wonderful woman
that ever lived. I think the old Greek goddesses must have looked just