t always loyal.

"I thought, perhaps," said Joe, growing red and white, and talking to
the hat, "that some day, when we're older, you--you might be willing to
marry me, Sid. I'd be awfully good to you."

It hurt her to say no. Indeed, she could not bring herself to say it.
In all her short life she had never willfully inflicted a wound.
And because she was young, and did not realize that there is a short
cruelty, like the surgeon's, that is mercy in the end, she temporized.

"There is such a lot of time before we need think of such things! Can't
we just go on the way we are?"

"I'm not very happy the way we are."

"Why, Joe!"

"Well, I'm not"--doggedly. "You're pretty and attractive. When I see a
fellow staring at you, and I'd like to smash his face for him, I haven't
the right."

"And a precious good thing for you that you haven't!" cried Sidney,
rather shocked.

There was silence for a moment between them. Sidney, to tell the truth,
was obsessed by a vision of Joe, young and hot-eyed, being haled to the
police station by virtue of his betrothal responsibilities. The boy was
vacillating between relief at having spoken and a heaviness of spirit
that came from Sidney's lack of enthusiastic response.

"Well, what do you think about it?"

"If you are asking me to give you permission to waylay and assault every
man who dares to look at me--"

"I guess this is all a joke to you."

She leaned over and put a tender hand on his arm.

"I don't want to hurt you; but, Joe, I don't want to be engaged yet.
I don't want to think about marrying. There's such a lot to do in the
world first. There's such a lot to see and be."

"Where?" he demanded bitterly. "Here on this Street? Do you want
more time to pull bastings for your mother? Or to slave for your Aunt
Harriet? Or to run up and down stairs, carrying towels to roomers? Marry
me and let me take care of you."

Once again her dangerous sense of humor threatened her. He looked
so boyish, sitting there with the moonlight on his bright hair, so
inadequate to carry out his magnificent offer. Two or three of the
star blossoms from the tree had fallen all his head. She lifted them
carefully away.

"Let me take care of myself for a while. I've never lived my own life.
You know what I mean. I'm not unhappy; but I want to do something.
And some day I shall,--not anything big; I know. I can't do that,--but
something useful. Then, after years and years, if you still want me