s so wrong of you," she murmured. "Oh! you don't
know how it hurt me. I cried--oh, for an hour."

"Well, that's just it," returned Annixter vaguely, moving his head
uneasily. "I didn't know what kind of a girl you were--I mean, I made
a mistake. I thought it didn't make much difference. I thought all
feemales were about alike."

"I hope you know now," murmured Hilma ruefully. "I've paid enough to
have you find out. I cried--you don't know. Why, it hurt me worse than
anything I can remember. I hope you know now." "Well, I do know now," he
exclaimed.

"It wasn't so much that you tried to do--what you did," answered Hilma,
the single deep swell from her waist to her throat rising and falling in
her emotion. "It was that you thought that you could--that anybody could
that wanted to--that I held myself so cheap. Oh!" she cried, with a
sudden sobbing catch in her throat, "I never can forget it, and you
don't know what it means to a girl."

"Well, that's just what I do want," he repeated. "I want you to forget
it and have us be good friends."

In his embarrassment, Annixter could think of no other words. He kept
reiterating again and again during the pauses of the conversation:

"I want you to forget it. Will you? Will you forget it--that--this
morning, and have us be good friends?"

He could see that her trouble was keen. He was astonished that the
matter should be so grave in her estimation. After all, what was it that
a girl should be kissed? But he wanted to regain his lost ground.

"Will you forget it, Miss Hilma? I want you to like me."

She took a clean napkin from the sideboard drawer and laid it down by
the plate.

"I--I do want you to like me," persisted Annixter. "I want you to forget
all about this business and like me."

Hilma was silent. Annixter saw the tears in her eyes.

"How about that? Will you forget it? Will you--will--will you LIKE me?"

She shook her head.

"No," she said.

"No what? You won't like me? Is that it?"

Hilma, blinking at the napkin through her tears, nodded to say, Yes,
that was it. Annixter hesitated a moment, frowning, harassed and
perplexed.

"You don't like me at all, hey?"

At length Hilma found her speech. In her low voice, lower and more
velvety than ever, she said:

"No--I don't like you at all."

Then, as the tears suddenly overpowered her, she dashed a hand across
her eyes, and ran from the room and out of doors.

Annixter stood for a moment thoughtful,