"Are you going up to the college?" she asked.

"I was--but I ain't now--if you'll let me walk a piece with you." He was
scarlet with confusion--a tribute that Chad rarely paid his kind. His way of
talking was very funny, to be sure, but had she not heard her father say that
"the poor little chap had had no chance in life;" and Harry, that some day he
would be the best in his class?

"Aren't you--Chad?"

"Yes--ain't you Margaret--Miss Margaret?"

"Yes, I'm Margaret." She was pleased with the hesitant title and the boy's
halting reverence.

"An' I called you a little gal." Margaret's laugh tinkled in merry
remembrance. "An' you wouldn't take my fish."

"I can't bear to touch them."

"I know," said Chad, remembering Melissa.

They passed a boy who knew Chad, but not Margaret. The lad took off his hat,
but Chad did not lift his; then a boy and a girl and, when only the two girls
spoke, the other boy lifted his hat, though he did not speak to Margaret.
Still Chad's hat was untouched and when Margaret looked up, Chad's face was
red with confusion again. But it never took the boy long to learn and,
thereafter, during the walk his hat came off unfailingly. Everyone looked at
the two with some surprise and Chad noticed that the little girl's chin was
being lifted higher and higher. His intuition told him what the matter was,