t bother me, Charley, if that's what you're thinking of. Let's
talk of something else."

"He'd better not, or I'll make it a quarrel with him."

"Oh, you mustn't think of that, Charley, indeed you mustn't!" cried
Betty in some alarm, for young Mr. Norton was both impulsive and
hot-headed.

"Well, just how often is Murrell here?" he demanded.

"I told you--every few days. He and Tom seem wonderfully congenial."

They were silent for a moment.

"Tom always sees him in his office," explained Betty. She might have
made her explanation fuller on this point had she cared to do so.

"That's the first decent thing I ever heard of Tom!" said Norton with
warmth. "But he ought to kick him off the place the first chance he
gets."

"Do you think Belle Plain is ever going to look as it did, Charley?--as
we remember it when we were children?" asked Betty, giving a new
direction to the conversation.

"Why, of course it is, dear, you are doing wonders!"

"I've really been ashamed of the place, the way it looked--and I can't
understand Tom!"

"Don't try to," advised Norton. "Look here, Betty, do you remember
it was right on this terrace I met you for the first time? My mother
brought me down, and I arrived with a strong prejudice against you,
young lady, because of the clothes I'd been put into--they were fine but
oppressive."

"How long did the prejudice last, Charley?"

"It didn't last at all, I thought you altogether the nicest little girl
I'd ever seen--just what I think now, I wish you could care for me,
Betty, just a little; just enough to marry me."

"But, Charley, I do care for you! I'm very, very fond of you."

"Well, don't make such a merit of it," he said, and they both laughed.
"I'm at an awful disadvantage, Betty, from having proposed so often.
That gives it a humorous touch which doesn't properly reflect the state
of my feeling at all--and you hear me without the least emotion; so long
as I keep my distance we might just as well be discussing the weather!"

"You are very good about that--"

"Keeping my distance, you mean?--Betty, if you knew how much resolution
that calls for! I wonder if that isn't my mistake--" And Norton came a
step nearer and took her in his arms.

With her hands on his shoulders Betty pushed him back, while the rich
color came into her cheeks. She was remembering Bruce Carrington, who
had not kept his distance.

"Please, Charley," she said half angrily, "I do like you tremendous