n nervously.

"There is plenty of time to think of that when you are thirty--even five
and thirty is not too late."

"Dear me!" exclaimed John, "I think that is much too old!"

"Do you call me old?" asked Mrs. Goddard serenely. "I was thirty-one on
my last birthday."

For the twentieth time, John felt himself growing uncomfortably hot. Not
only had he said an unconscionably stupid thing, but Mrs. Goddard, after
advising him not to marry for ten years, had almost hinted that she might
meanwhile be married herself. What else could she mean by the remark? But
John was hardly a responsible being on that day. His views of life and
his understanding were equally disturbed.

"No indeed," he protested on hearing her confession of age. "No
indeed--why, you are the youngest person I ever saw, of course. But with
men--it is quite different."

"Is it? I always thought women were supposed to grow old faster than men.
That is the reason why women always marry men so much older than
themselves."

"Oh--in that case--I have nothing more to say," replied John in very
indistinct tones. The perspiration was standing upon his forehead; the
room swam with him and he felt a terrible, prickly sensation all over his
body.

"Mamma, shan't I open the door? Mr. Short is so very hot," said Nellie
looking at him in some astonishment. At that moment John felt as though
he could have eaten little Nellie, long legs, ringlets and all, with
infinite satisfaction. He rose suddenly to his feet.

"The fact is--it is late--I must really be saying good-bye," he
stammered.

"Must you?" said Mrs. Goddard, suspecting that something was the matter.
"Well, I am very sorry to say good-bye. But you will be coming back soon,
will you not?"

"Yes--I don't know--perhaps I shall not come back at all. Good-bye--Mrs.
Goddard--good-bye, Miss Nellie."

"Good-bye, Mr. Short," said Mrs. Goddard, looking at him with some
anxiety. "You are not ill? What is the matter?"

"Oh dear no, nothing," answered John with an unnatural laugh. "No thank
you--good-bye."

He managed to get out of the door and rushed down to the road. The cold
air steadied his nerves. He felt better. With a sudden revulsion of
feeling, he began to utter inward imprecations against his folly, against
the house he had just left, against everybody and everything in general,
not forgetting poor little Nellie.

"If ever I cross that threshold again--" he muttered with tragic
emphasis. His face