t the ople sea."

I saw mother had been talking, and I drew myself up.

"They look and act like other people," said Leila, going to the bureau
and spilling Powder all over the place. "Look at Beecher."

"Beecher!" I cried, with a thrill that started inside my elbows. (I
have read this to one or two of the girls, and they say there is no such
thrill. But not all people act alike under the influence of emotion, and
mine is in my Arms, as stated.)

"The playwright," Sis said. "He's staying next door. And if he does any
languishing it is not by himself."

There may be some who have for a long time had an Ideal, but without
hoping ever to meet him, and then suddenly learning that he is nearby,
with indeed but a wall or two between, can be calm and cool. But I am
not like that. Although long supression has taught me to disemble at
times, where my Heart is concerned I am powerless.

For it was at last my heart that was touched. I, who had scorned the
Other Sex and felt that I was born cold and always would be cold, that
day I discovered the truth. Reginald Beecher was my ideal. I had never
spoken to him, nor indeed seen him, except for his pictures. But the
very mention of his name brought a lump to my Throat.

Feeling better imediately, I got Sis out of the room and coaxed Hannah
to bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it out of the Pantrey I
was dressing, and soon, as a new being, I was out on the stone bench at
the foot of the lawn, gazing with wrapt eyes at the sea.

But Fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and came over. He
had but recently been put in long trowsers, and those not his best
ones but only white flannels. He was never sure of his garters, and was
always looking to see if his socks were coming down. Well, he came over
just as I was sure I saw Reginald Beecher next door on the veranda, and
made himself a nusance right away, trying all sorts of kid tricks, such
as snaping a rubber Band at me, and pulling out Hairpins.

But I felt that I must talk to somone. So I said:

"Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a Career, which would it be?"

"Why not both," he said, hiching the rubber band onto one of his front
teeth and playing on it. "Niether ought to take up all a fellow's time.
Say, listen to this! Talk about a eukelele!"

"A woman can never have both."

He played a while, struming with one finger until the hand sliped off
and stung him on the lip.

"Once," I said, "I dream