ome out to the park today. I simply _had_ to be alone, and I
knew I'd be alone out here. Everybody else would be at the football
game. By the way, why aren't you there?"

"I wasn't even aware that there was a football game on hand," said the
Young Man, as if he knew he ought to be ashamed of his ignorance, and
was.

"Dear me," said the Girl pityingly. "Where can you have been not to
have heard of it? It's between the Dalhousie team and the Wanderers.
Almost everybody here is on the Wanderers' side, because they are
Haligonians, but I am not. I like the college boys best. Beatrix says
that it is just because of my innate contrariness. Last year I simply
screamed myself hoarse with enthusiasm. The Dalhousie team won the
trophy."

"If you are so interested in the game, it is a wonder you didn't go to
see it yourself," said the Young Man boldly.

"Well, I just couldn't," said the Girl with a sigh. "If anybody had
ever told me that there would be a football game in Halifax, and that
I would elect to prowl about by myself in the park instead of going to
it, I'd have laughed them to scorn. Even Beatrix would never have
dared to prophesy _that_. But you see it has happened. I was too
crumpled up in my mind to care about football today. I had to come
here and have it out with myself. That is why I put on my hat. I
thought, perhaps, I might get through with my mental gymnastics in
time to go to the game afterwards. But I didn't. It is just maddening,
too. I got this hat and dress on purpose to wear to it. They're black
and yellow, you see--the Dalhousie colours. It was my own idea. I was
sure it would make a sensation. But I couldn't go to the game and take
any interest in it, feeling as I do, could I, now?"

The Young Man said, of course, she couldn't. It was utterly out of the
question.

The Girl smiled. Without a smile, she was charming. With a smile, she
was adorable.

"I like to have my opinions bolstered up. Do you know, I want to tell
you something? May I?"

"You may. I'll never tell anyone as long as I live," said the Young
Man solemnly.

"I don't know you and you don't know me. That is why I want to tell
you about it. I _must_ tell somebody, and if I told anybody I knew,
they'd tell it all over Halifax. It is dreadful to be talking to you
like this. Beatrix would have three fits, one after the other, if she
saw me. But Beatrix is a slave to conventionality. I glory in
discarding it at times. You don't mind,