ys is '_Confound Morton_.'"

"I thought he had more spirit," was the ungrateful rejoinder.

"Oh, he has spirit enough," she explained. "He would say much more if
he were allowed."

She saw Robert start forward.

"Of course," she went on in an even tone, "I shouldn't permit him to
abuse a friend of Willie's."

"Oh, that's the reason you put the check on him, is it?"

"Aren't you Willie's friend?" she questioned evasively.

"Yes, but--"

"You don't seem to appreciate your luck. Now I adore Willie and
believe that any one who has his friendship is the most fortunate
person in the world."

He saw a grave and tender light creep into her wonderful eyes.

"I'm not arguing about Willie," said he. "You know how much I care for
him. But I can't think of him now. It's you I'm thinking
of--you--you."

She did not answer but bent her head lower over her sweeping.

"I don't believe there is any flour on my shoes, any way," grumbled the
culprit presently, stooping to examine his feet with the air of a
guilty child. He thought he heard her laugh.

"How much longer are you going to keep me in this infernal chair?" he
fumed.

"Bob!" called a voice from upstairs.

"It's your aunt; she must have heard you come in."

He sprang up only to come into collision with the dustpan full of flour
which lay near his chair. A second more and the fruits of the sweeping
drifted broadcast in a powdery cloud.

"Delight! Dearest!" he cried, bending over the kneeling figure.

"You must go upstairs and see your aunt--please!" she begged. "She
will think it so strange."

"All right, sweetheart. I'm coming, Aunt Tiny."

When Willie entered a few moments later in search of his co-laborer,
Delight was alone. He glanced questioningly about the room,--at the
girl's flushed cheeks, the half-made cake, the snowy floor.

"Bob--Mr. Morton spilled some flour," the young woman explained,
evading his eye.

The little old man made no response. He studied the burning face, the
drooping lashes; he also looked meditatively at some footprints on the
floor. They may not have been as startling in their significance as
were the famous marks Crusoe discovered in the sand, but they were
quite as illuminating.

A trail of small ones led about the room and beside them, as if echoing
to their light tread, was a series of larger ones. The inventor's gaze
pursued them curiously to a spot before the stove where they became
very much confused