do you?"

"Not at all," said the Young Man sincerely.

The Girl sighed.

"I have reached that point where I must have a confidant, or go crazy.
Once I could tell things to Beatrix. That was before she got engaged.
Now she tells everything to _him_. There is no earthly way of
preventing her. I've tried them all. So, nowadays, when I get into
trouble, I tell it out loud to myself in the glass. It's a relief, you
know. But that is no good now. I want to tell it to somebody who can
say things back. Will you promise to say things back?"

The Young Man assured her that he would when the proper time came.

"Very well. But please don't look at me while I'm telling you. I'll be
sure to blush in places. When Beatrix wants to be particularly
aggravating she says I have lost the art of blushing. But that is only
her way of putting it, you know. Sometimes I blush dreadfully."

The Young Man dragged his eyes from the face under the
black-and-yellow hat, and fastened them on a crooked pine tree that
hung out over the bank.

"Well," began the Girl, "the root of the whole trouble is simply this.
There is a young man in England. I always think of him as the
Creature. He is the son of a man who was Father's especial crony in
boyhood, before Father emigrated to Canada. Worse than that, he comes
of a family which has contracted a vile habit of marrying into our
family. It has come down through the ages so long that it has become
chronic. Father left most of his musty traditions in England, but he
brought this pet one with him. He and this friend agreed that the
latter's son should marry one of Father's daughters. It ought to have
been Beatrix--she is the oldest. But Beatrix had a pug nose. So Father
settled on me. From my earliest recollection I have been given to
understand that just as soon as I grew up there would be a ready-made
husband imported from England for me. I was doomed to it from my
cradle. Now," said the Girl, with a tragic gesture, "I ask you, could
_anything_ be more hopelessly, appallingly stupid and devoid of
romance than that?"

The Young Man shook his head, but did not look at her.

"It's pretty bad," he admitted.

"You see," said the Girl pathetically, "the shadow of it has been over
my whole life. Of course, when I was a very little girl I didn't mind
it so much. It was such a long way off and lots of things might
happen. The Creature might run away with some other girl--or I might
have the smallpox--or B