ted. The fleecy wrap she wore fell about her
slim shoulders in long lines, glinting with silver. She did not give
the effect of remoteness, but of being near and dear and desirable and
beautiful. The boy, looking upon her with his heart in his eyes, drew
nearer.

"Mary Virginia," said he, eagerly and huskily and passionately and
timidly and hopefully and despairingly, "Mary Virginia, are you going
to marry anybody?"

Mary Virginia came back from the stars in the night sky to the stars
in the young man's eyes. "Why, yes, I hope I am," said she lightly
enough, but one saw she had been startled. "What a funny boy you are,
Laurence, to be sure! You don't expect me to remain a spinster, do
you?"

"You are going to be married?" This time despair was uppermost.

"I most certainly am!" said Mary Virginia stoutly. "Why, I confided
_that_ to you years and years and years ago! Don't you remember I
always insisted he should have golden hair, and sea-blue eyes, and a
classic brow, and a beautiful willingness to go away somewhere and die
of a broken heart if I ordered him to?"

"Who is it?"

"Who is who?" she parried provokingly.

"The chap you're going to marry?"

Mary Virginia appeared to reflect deeply and anxiously. She put out a
foot, with the eternal feminine gesture, and dug a neat little hole in
the graveled walk with her satin toe.

"Laurence," said she. "I'm going to tell you the truth. The truth is,
Laurence, that I simply hate to have to tell you the truth."

"Mary Virginia!" he stammered wretchedly. "You hate to have to tell
_me_ the truth? Oh, my dear, why? Why?"

"Because."

"But because why?"

"Because," said the dear hussy, demurely, "I don't know."

Laurence's arms fell to his sides, helplessly; he craned his neck and
stared.

"Mary Virginia!" said he, in a breathless whisper.

Mary Virginia nodded. "It's really none of your business, you know,"
she explained sweetly; "but as you've asked me, why, I'll tell you.
That same question plagues and fascinates me, too, Laurence. Why, just
consider! Here's a whole big, big world full of men--tall men, short
men, lean men, fat men, silly men, wise men, ugly men, handsome men,
sad men, glad men, good men, bad men, rich men, poor men,--oh, all
sorts and kinds and conditions and complexions of men: any one of whom
I might wake up some day and find myself married to: and I don't know
which one! It delights and terrifies and fascinates and amuses and
puzzle