into her manner she went on, "Why, what is it?"

Young Rosenthal glanced at her friends, and, formally offering her his
arm, said seriously: "You will walk with me?"

"We were going down to Haas's for ice-cream sodas," Julia submitted
hesitatingly.

"Well, I will take you there," Mark said. And as the others, nodding
good-naturedly at this, drifted on ahead, Julia found herself walking
down O'Farrell Street on the arm of a tall and handsome man.

It was the first time that she had done just this thing--or if not the
first time, it had never seemed to have any particular significance
before. Now, however, Julia felt in her heart a little flutter of
satisfaction. Somehow Mark did not seem just a commonplace member of the
"Rosenthal gang" to-night, nor did she seem "the Page kid." Mark was a
man, and--thrilling thought!--was angry at Julia, and Julia, hanging on
his arm, with a hundred street lights flashing on her little powdered
nose and saucy hat, was at last a "young lady!"

"What's the matter, Mark?" she asked, by way of opening the
conversation.

"Oh, nothing whatever!" Mark answered, in a rich, full voice, and with
elaborate irony. "You promised to go to the Orpheum with me, and I
waited--and I waited--and you did not come. But that is nothing, of
course!"

Julia's anger smote her dumb for a moment. Then she jerked her arm from