"Because--well, because I don't think you will, that's all. Girls like
you don't have to keep a country store, you know--at least, not for
long."

The remark was intended to please; it might have pleased some girls,
but it did not please this one. Mary's dignity was offended. Anything
approaching a slur upon her beloved uncles, or their place of business,
or South Harniss, or the Cape Cod people, she resented with all her
might. Her eyes snapped.

"I do not HAVE to keep store at any time," she said crisply, "in the
country or elsewhere. I do it because I wish to and I shall continue to
do it as long as I choose. If my friends do not understand that fact and
appreciate my reasons, they are not my friends, that is all."

Crawford threw up both hands. "Whew!" he exclaimed. "Don't shoot; I'll
come down! Great Scott! If you take a fellow's head off like that when
he pays you a compliment what would you do if he dared to criticize?"

"Was that remark of yours intended as a compliment?"

"Not exactly; more as a statement of fact. I meant--I meant--Oh, come
now, Mary! You know perfectly well what I meant. Own up."

Mary tried hard to be solemn and severe, but the twinkle in his eye was
infectious and in spite of her effort her lips twitched.

"Own up, now," persisted Crawford. "You know what I meant. Now, don't
you?"