up to that big joint and wait for my girl to trip down the steps."

"No. I've a plan of my own today. Let me have my way."

"All righto--just so you're happy."

"I am happy," she answered soberly.

At the foot of the broad stairs of the Library she paused and looked up
smilingly at its majestic front.

"Come in a moment," she said softly.

He followed her wonderingly into the vaulted hall and climbed the grand
staircase to the reading-room. She walked slowly to the shelf on which
the Century Dictionary rested and looked laughingly at the seat in which
she sat Saturday afternoon a week ago at exactly this hour.

Jim smiled, leaned close and whispered:

"I got you, Kiddo--I got you! Get out of here quick or I'll grab you and
kiss you!"

She started and blushed.

"Don't you dare!"

"Beat it then--beat it--or I can't help it!"

She turned quickly and they passed through the catalogue room and
lightly down the stairs.

He held her soft, round arm with a grip that sent the blood tingling to
the roots of her brown hair.

"You understand now?" she whispered.

"You bet! We walk the same way up the Avenue, through the Park to the
little house on the laurel hill. And you're goin' to be sweet to me
today, my Kiddo--I just feel it. I----"

"Don't be too sure, sir!" she interrupted, solemnly.

He laughed aloud.

"You can't fool me now--and I'm crazy as a June bug! You know I like to
walk--if I can be with you!"

At the Park entrance she stopped again and smiled roguishly.

"We'll find a seat in one of the summer houses along the Fifty-ninth
Street side."

"All right," he responded.

"No--we'll go on where we started!"

With a laugh, she slipped her hand through his arm.

"You were a little scared of me last Saturday about this time, weren't
you?"

"Just a little----"

"It hurt me, too, but I didn't let you know."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right now--it's all right. Gee I but we've traveled some in a
week, haven't we?"

"I've known you more than a week," she protested gayly.

"Sure--I've known you since I was born."

They walked through the stately rows of elms on the Mall in joyous
silence. Crowds of children and nurses, lovers and loungers, filled the
seats and thronged the broad promenade.

Scarcely a word was spoken until they reached the rustic house nestling
among the trees on the hill.

"Just a week by the calendar," she murmured. "And I've lived a
lifetime."

"It's all right then