"Stoop!"

"Yes," she snapped, "--pose for an artist! I'd as
soon think of rushing stark naked through Twenty-third
Street at noon!"

The older woman looked at her flushed face,
suppressed a sharp answer, broke into a fit of laughter
and threw her arms around Mary's neck.

"Honey, you're such a hopeless little fool, you're
delicious! You know that I love you--don't you?"

The pretty lips quivered.

"Yes."

"Could I possibly ask you to do a thing that would
harm a single brown hair of your head?"

The firm hand of the older girl touched a
rebellious lock with tenderness.

"Of course not, from your point of view, Jane
dear," the stubborn lips persisted. "But you see it's
not my point of view. You're older than I----"

Jane smiled.

"Hoity toity, Miss! I'm just twenty-eight and