she wait for you? It all amounts to the same thing. You'll be able to
marry her just as soon as he is. Now, don't be discouraged. Cheer up."

"You're awfully good, Melissa," said Frederick gloomily.

"And what's more, don't let 'em guy you about her. Mr. Diggs don't let
any one guy him about me, you can bet. And say, if you can manage to
sneak one of Mr. Bingle's razors out of his room some day, I'll shave
you. There's nothing like getting your whiskers started early."

"Gee, Melissa, will you?"

"Like a shot. Let me feel your chin. Why, I swear to goodness, there's
something there already. It's--"

"Honest, Melissa? Do you really mean it? I thought it was only fuzz."

"Fuzz your granny," said Melissa stoutly. "In a couple of months you
could get a beard like a billy goat if you shaved regular."

"I don't want chin whiskers. I want a moustache."

"And in the meantime," went on Melissa with rare diplomacy, "you may
see some one else that you like better than Miss Fairweather. That
very frequently happens to a fellow when he's busy trying to get a
beard."

"Do you think she likes Mr. Flanders, Melissa?" A great deal depended
on her answer. That was to be seen by the expression in his young blue
eyes.