your mother and I agree. Nevertheless, she didn't want you to come
with me," he said, absolutely undisturbed.

"How do you know she didn't?" she demanded, womanlike. Then, before
she was quite aware of it, they were in a deep and earnest
discussion of Mrs. Garrison, and her not very complimentary views.

"And how do you feel about this confounded prospect, Dorothy? You
are not afraid of what a few gossips--noble or otherwise--may say
about a friendship that is entirely the business of two people and
not the property of the general public? If you feel that I am in the
way I'll gladly go, you know. Of course, I'd rather hate to miss
seeing you once in a while, but I think I'd have the courage to--"

"Oh, it's not nice of you to be sarcastic," she cried, wondering,
however, whether he really meant "gladly" when he said it. Somehow
she felt herself admitting that she was piqued by his apparent
readiness to abdicate. She did not know that he was cocksure of his
ground before making the foregoing and other observations equally as
indifferent.

"I'm not sarcastic; quite the reverse. I'm very serious. You know
how much I used to think of you--"

"But that was long ago, and you were such a foolish boy," she cried,
interrupting nervously.

"Yes, I know; a boy must have his foolish streaks. How a fellow
changes as he gets older, and how he looks back and laughs at the
fancies he had when a boy. Same way with a girl, though, I suppose."