nd it marred the full enjoyment of the one she
had, but now--

Still, any one would be flattered to have Mr. Allie asking, so she
said no.

"Then we'll stay," he said; which was not brilliant, to be sure, but
it was the way in which Mr. Allie said things which made them seem
pregnant of many meanings.

After that neither of them spoke, yet Alexina's pulses began to beat.
The big side yard upon which the steps descended was flooded with
moonlight, and a mockingbird was sending forth a trial note or two.
And it was June.

"For you know, really, you're the very dearest of them all," said Mr.
Allie, with soft decision, as if he had been arguing about it.

There was not a thing to say, and she could not have said it if there
had been.

"And I've known a good many," continued Mr. Allie, which probably was
true, only Mr. Allie knew how true; "but I've never felt just this way
about any of them before."

Then they sat very still, and the bird note rose and fell.

"Maybe you'd rather go in," said Mr. Allie as the music began again.
Was it hurt in his tone?

"Oh," said Alexina, "no."

Mr. Allie picked up the end of the scarf which had fallen to the steps
and put it about her shoulders again. It brought his face around where
he could see hers. Was he laughing? Or were his eyes full of reproach?
For what? He did not look a bit like a contemporary of anybody's
mother. Yet perhaps the moustache that drooped over the mouth did
hide--lines, and the lazy eyes sometimes did look tired. Youth has
its dreams, vague, secret, yet the Prince of the dreams should be no
Mr. Allie with eyes that look weary and tired.

"If I thought," said Mr. Allie softly, oh, so softly; "if I thought
that you could care?"

"Oh," said Alexina, "no, I couldn't."

She sobbed. It seemed cruel to Mr. Allie.

Then they talked it over, he so gently, she with self-reproach and
little chokes against tears. He even held her hand, she too
tender-hearted to know how to take it away, though the remorse eating
into her heart was forgotten somewhat in the glow, the wonder that
this thing, this sad but beautiful thing should come to her. Presently
he took her in. The rest of the evening sped hazily. Going home, she
talked to Mr. Allie and Molly as in a dream.

Reaching the hotel, and in their own apartment, Alexina sank down on
the sofa, her wrap and fan falling unobserved, and sat, chin on palm,
shyly remembering, shrinking a little, and blushing. Suddenl