to tell Joe all
the story when she came home; and he said they must go up the historic
Harlem some day. And he said Umscoota meant "Stream among the green
sedge."

This year it had to be Rutger's Institute for Hanny. There were a great
many new schools; but Dolly and Margaret carried the day. She thought at
first she shouldn't like it at all; but when she came to know the girls,
she began to feel quite at home, and, in some queer fashion, as if she
were growing up. But she didn't seem to grow very fast.

Ben came to his twenty-first birthday. He was a tall, well-grown young
fellow, and often surprised Jim by the amount of knowledge he possessed.
And then he went over to the "Tribune" office, and sometimes tried his
hand at queer, out-of-the-way bits of past lore that people were almost
forgetting. Just how it came about, he never clearly remembered himself;
but one night, when Delia had seemed unusually attractive to three or
four young men who haunted the place, he rose abruptly and said he must
go. There was a set look in his usually pleasant face, and he shut his
lips, as if something had displeased him.

Delia went to the hall door. As he turned, she caught his arm.

"What is it, Ben?" she said in a hurried whisper. "Something has
happened to vex you."

"Something!" with youthful bitterness. "We never have any good times any
more. There's always such a crowd--"

"Oh, Ben! Are you jealous? Why, you know I like you better than any of
them! Gordon only comes to get ideas; he's so very anxious to do
something in literature. As if I could help anybody!" and she laughed.
"The others come for fun. You're worth them all, Ben. Oh, don't go away
angry!" with a voice of tender pleading.

Ben felt suddenly foolish. Was he angry over such a trifle? Then he
glanced up in Delia's face; he was on the step below. What was there in
her eyes; and she had said she liked him better than any of them, even
that handsome Van Doren. Well, he was most jealous of Van Doren, who was
in his last year at Columbia, and whose father was rich and indulgent.

"Oh," he said with an indrawn breath, "you must know that I love you.
I've always loved you, I think."

She put her arms about his neck, and kissed him. It was very
reprehensible, I suppose. Young people were honestly friendly in those
days, and seldom had a chaperone; yet they did not play at love, unless
they were real flirts; and a flirt soon gained an unenviable reputation.

"Co