is worn, navy-blue tie to hang exactly right). He turned
into a crestfallen youth as Mrs. Cowles opened the door and
waited--waited!--for him to speak, after a crisp:

"Well? What is it, Carl?"

"Why, uh, I just thought I'd come and see how Gertie is."

"Gertrude is much better, thank you. I presume she will return to
school at the end of vacation."

The hall behind Mrs. Cowles seemed very stately, very long.

"I've heard a lot saying they hoped she was better."

"You may tell them that she is better."

Mrs. Cowles shivered. No one could possibly have looked more like a
person closing a door without actually closing one. "Lena!" she
shrieked, "close the kitchen door. There's a draught." She turned back
to Carl.

The shy lover vanished. An angry young man challenged, "If Gertie 's
up I think I'll come in a few minutes and see her."

"Why, uh----" hesitated Mrs. Cowles.

He merely walked in past her. His anger kept its own council, for he
could depend upon Gertie's warm greeting--lonely Gertie, he would
bring her the cheer of the great open.

The piano sounded in the library, and the voice of the one perfect
girl mingled with a man's tenor in "Old Black Joe." Carl stalked into
the library. Gertie was there, much corseted, well powdered, wearing a
blue foulard frenziedly dotted with white, and being cultured in
company with Dr. Doyle, the lively young dentist who had recently
taken an office in the National Bank Block. He was a graduate of the
University of Minnesota--dental department. He had oily black hair,
and smiled with gold-filled teeth before one came to the real point of
a joke. He sang in the Congregational church choir, and played tennis
in a crimson-and-black blazer--the only one in Joralemon.

To Carl Dr. Doyle was dismayingly mature and smart. He horribly feared
him as a rival. For the second time that evening he did not balk fate
by fearing it. The dentist was a rival. After fluttering about the
mature charms of Miss Dietz, the school drawing-teacher, and taking a
tentative buggy-ride or two with the miller's daughter, Dr. Doyle was
bringing all the charm of his professional position and professional
teeth and patent-leather shoes to bear upon Gertie.

And Gertie was interested. Obviously. She was all of eighteen
to-night. She frowned slightly as she turned on the piano-stool at
Carl's entrance, and mechanically: "This is a pleasant surprise."
Then, enthusiastically: "Isn't it too bad that Dr