lways,
Jerry, because I love you so. Won't you take me, Jerry?"

"Don't be a little goose, Isabelle."

"Please don't hate me, Jerry," she sobbed.

"I don't hate you, when you're sensible."

"Won't you call me Cr-cricket, just once, Jerry?"

"If you'll be a good girl, and go to bed."

"Kiss me good-night."

"I'll do nothing of the kind."

He loosed her clinging arms determinedly. He had a miserable feeling of
Jane's amusement over this absurd scene, which she was overhearing. When
he released her, Isabelle sank in a sobbing heap upon the couch.

"Miss Judd," called Jerry.

She came to the door, and only for an instant was there a flicker of
amusement in her eyes.

"Come and take charge of this crazy kid," he said desperately. "I'll
come over early in the morning."

He seized his bag and hurried to the door.

"Oh, Jerry!" wailed the heroine.

But the hero, red, furious, embarrassed, plunged down the stairs, three
at a time, and pined for the sight of Wally, so that he might adequately
record his feelings upon some member of the Bryce family!

CHAPTER IX

Jane's emotions, as she turned her attention to Isabelle, were
compounded of amusement and sympathy for Jerry. She sensed how he, of
all men, would hate being made ridiculous. She was destined to hear the
whole story before she went to sleep, for Isabelle's pent passion had
reached a climax where a confidante was a necessity.

She described the yachting party most cleverly. She enlarged on Mrs.
Brendon's attempts to isolate Althea and Jerry, with her own
introduction into the picture. She described her growing love for the
hero, her determination to join him when he came north. She even
admitted that she had wired the head mistress of the school not to meet
them, because she thought that Jerry would then have to marry her to
"protect her good name."

Jane struggled not to laugh; it was so poignant to the girl, and so
absurd to her. She tried to soothe her, to change the subject, but in
vain.

"Do you think he will marry me?" she demanded.

"I doubt it."

"Don't you think he loves me?"

"I'm afraid you're too young for this kind of thing."

"I'm not young. I'm nearly seventeen, and lots of girls love and marry
before that."

"Lots of other women are in love with Mr. Paxton, too," said Jane.

"You just say that to scare me!" cried Isabelle, and followed it up with
much weeping.

Poor Jane endured a bad night, but as is the way wit