s, and
though he gazed wistfully up at the gray tower, he knew well enough
that of course she could not wave to him at such a time as that. Yet he
had hoped--almost believed that she would wave two waves that last day,
and let him go over to see her.

"But she didn't wave, and he didn't go over. She went away. And then
the town learned a wonderful thing. The old lady, her aunt, who had
been considered just fairly rich, turned out to be the possessor of
almost fabulous wealth, owing to her great holdings of stock in a
Western gold mine which had suddenly struck it rich. And to the girl
she willed it all. It was then, of course, that the girl became the
Princess, but the boy did not realize that--just then. To him she was
still 'the girl.'

"For three years he did not see her. She was at school, or traveling
abroad, he heard. He, too, had been away to school, and was, indeed,
just ready to enter college. Then, that summer, he heard that she was
coming to the old home, and his heart sang within him. Remember, to him
she was still the girl. He knew, of course, that she was not the LITTLE
girl who had promised to marry him. But he was sure she was the merry
comrade, the true-hearted young girl who used to smile frankly into his
eyes, and whom he was now to win for his wife. You see he had
forgotten--quite forgotten about the Princess and the money. Such a
foolish, foolish boy as he was!

"So he got out his flags gleefully, and one day, when his mother wasn't
in the kitchen, he ironed out the wrinkles and smoothed them all ready
to be raised on the pole. He would be ready when the girl waved--for of
course she would wave; he would show her that he had not forgotten. He
could see just how the sparkle would come to her eyes, and just how the
little fine lines of mischief would crinkle around her nose when she
was ready to give that first wave. He could imagine that she would like
to find him napping; that she would like to take him by surprise, and
make him scurry around for his flags to answer her.

"But he would show her! As if she, a girl, were to beat him at their
old game! He wondered which it would be: 'I'm coming over,' or, 'You
are to come over here.' Whichever it was, he would answer, of course,
with the red 'All right.' Still, it WOULD be a joke to run up the blue
'Got to work,' and then slip across to see her, just as she, so long
ago, had played the joke on him! On the whole, however, he thought the
red flag wo