face fairly grew pale under his words. Had he learned of her plot?
Had he read her thoughts, and been informed of her past life? Did
quiet satire and denunciation lurk under this seeming frankness?
She was for the moment perplexed and troubled. Worse still, he
compelled her to see these things in a new light, and her conscience
echoed his words.

But her first impulse was to learn whether he was speaking generally,
or pointedly at her; so she asked, in some little trepidation,
"Has any naughty girl tried to treat you badly, that you speak so
strongly?"

He laughed outright at this question. "No one has had a chance,"
he said; "and I do not think there are many who would take it.
Moreover, I imagine that one of your proud belles would not even
condescend to flirt with a poor awkward fellow like me. But I am
not a croaking philosopher, and look on the bright side of the
world. It has always treated me quite as well as I deserved. I often
think the world is not so bad as described, and that it would be
better, if it had a chance."

"Have you seen much of it, Mr. Hemstead?"

"I cannot say that I have. I have read and thought about it far
more than I have seen. On account of my limited means and student
life, my excursions have been few and far between. I have already
proved to you what an awkward stranger I am to society. But in
thought and fancy I have been a great rambler, and like to picture
to myself all kinds of scenes, past and present, and to analyze
all kinds of character."