ne foot to a paper-weight.

"I thought we might keep him for a souvenir," she suggested.

"You seem pretty confident we'll get back, all right," Arthur
observed. "It was surely lucky those blessed birds came along.
They've heartened up the people wonderfully!"

"Oh, I knew you'd manage somehow!" said Estelle confidently.

"I manage?" Arthur repeated, smiling. "What have I done?"

"Why, you've done everything," affirmed Estelle stoutly. "You've
told the people what to do from the very first, and you're going
to get us back."

Arthur grinned, then suddenly his face grew a little more serious.

"I wish I were as sure as you are," he said. "I think we'll be all
right, though, sooner or later."

"I'm sure of it," Estelle declared with conviction. "Why, you--"

"Why I?" asked Arthur again. He bent forward in his chair and fixed
his eyes on Estelle's. She looked up, met his gaze, and stammered.

"You--you do things," she finished lamely.

"I'm tempted to do something now," Arthur said. "Look here, Miss
Woodward, you've been in my employ for three or four months. In all
that time I've never had anything but the most impersonal comments
from you. Why the sudden change?"

The twinkle in his eyes robbed his words of any impertinence.

"Why, I really--I really suppose I never noticed you before,"
said Estelle.

"Please notice me hereafter," said Arthur. "I have been noticing
you. I've been doing practically nothing else."

Estelle flushed again. She tried to meet Arthur's eyes and
failed. She bit desperately into her pigeon drumstick, trying to
think of something to say.

"When we get back," went on Arthur meditatively, "I'll have nothing
to do--no work or anything. I'll be broke and out of a job."

Estelle shook her head emphatically. Arthur paid no attention.

"Estelle," he said, smiling, "would you like to be out of a job
with me?"

Estelle turned crimson.

"I'm not very successful," Arthur went on soberly. "I'm afraid I
wouldn't make a very good husband, I'm rather worthless and lazy!"

"You aren't," broke in Estelle; "you're--you're--"

Arthur reached over and took her by the shoulders.

"What?" he demanded.

She would not look at him, but she did not draw away. He held her
from him for a moment.

"What am I?" he demanded again. Somehow he found himself kissing
the tips of her ears. Her face was buried against his shoulder.

"What am I?" he repeated sternly.

Her voice was muffled by his coat