wly. "Well--would you like to see me sentimental?
Would you like to see me make a fool of myself?"

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure!" cried Cyn.

"Then," exclaimed Jo, planting himself directly in front of her, "here
goes! now I am going to astonish you very much, Cyn!"

"Very well! I am all impatience! Go on!"

"But it is no joke!" he replied, in protest to her laughing face. "If I
am to make a fool of myself I am going to do it in dead earnest!"

"That is the way, of course," responded Cyn, but beginning to look a
little surprised.

For Jo seemed very much excited, and his manner indicated anything but a
jest. Extraordinary creature, that Jo! His next proceeding was even more
strange; that was to ask the apparently irrelevant question,

"Do you remember what we were all saying a short time ago, about Fate?"

"Certainly; but are you going to favor me with a dissertation on Fate,
instead of making a fool of yourself?"

"No!" was the solemn reply, "have a little patience, Cyn. The fact is,
you are my Fate--there is no mistake about it!--and must be either cruel
or kind, and there's no alternative!"

Cyn's surprise increased visibly.

"I am sure, I do not understand you at all! how queer you are to-day,
Jo!"

"Of course I am queer! when a man throws his theories and hobbies to the
winds, and confesses himself conquered, he is apt to be queer, is he
not? Can you not understand, that I, Jo Norton, who have always scoffed
at sentiment, and proudly declared myself incapable of being the victim
of love, am ready--yes, and longing!--to make as big a fool of myself as
the veriest spooniest youth in existence, and all for love of you, Cyn?"

To this exceedingly novel declaration of love, Cyn responded by
releasing the bough she held, and staring at him with distended eyes and
a perfectly blank face; for once in her life, speechless.

"I told you I was going to astonish you," said Jo, quaintly, in answer
to her prolonged stare, "and I do not wonder that you cannot believe I
really love you! I did not myself, for a long time, and I would not
after I knew it! But it is a fact. No joke--no mistake, but a sober,
serious fact! I love you, love you, love you!"

Jo's voice grew very fervent, as he uttered these last words, and was in
such striking contrast to his ordinary manner, that Cyn could but see
that this was indeed, "no joke."

"You--you love--and _love me!_" she gasped.

"Yes, I could not help it! I h