d genuine, the weight of his obligations to all these auspices
warned him not to be too prodigal with his privileges; so, with an
effort, the stress of which communicated some of its rigors to his
countenance, he closed his eyes for one ascetic moment and came bravely
to earth again.

Suspecting something of the nature of his confusion, as a lovely woman
will, and secretly applauding his undemonstrative deference, which, in
the cynical atmosphere to which she was habituated, came to her like a
refreshing zephyr, the widow asked him with an engaging smile of
encouragement:

"Of what were you thinking, Mr. Muldoon?"

"Mr. Muldoon!" he repeated to himself with an endeavor to reflect the
intonation of personal distinction which issued so entrancingly from the
Cupid's bow of a mouth. He had not been so ceremoniously addressed since
he knew not when, and never realized that his homely name had such music
in it. "Oh!" he thought, "if she would only say 'Dennis,' it would be
like grand opera."

"Why," replied Dennis with simple frankness. "I was thinking, for one
thing--for one thing"--but encouraged by her smiling invitation he
stammered--"how beautiful you are!" and added to himself, or it looked
as though he might express his sentiments that way: "There, you've done
it!"

"Ah!" exclaimed his companion, with a rosy enjoyment of this unstudied
situation and frank appreciation, "and what was the other?"

"I don't know how to tell you the other," answered Dennis. Then with an
unreflective inspiration: "Did you ever read about Launcelot and
Guinevere?"

"Ye-yes," was the apprehensive answer.

"Well," continued Dennis with a naive remembrance only of the chivalry
of this idyllic indiscretion, "when I look at you I can understand how a
knight could battle for a queen."

There was silence for a moment, but in the interval the lady did not
laugh, though her eyes were bright as she said:

"You are a strange boy."

"Oh!" cried Dennis, "tell me, have I offended? I would not do that for
the world."

"I am sure of that," replied the widow, "and I believe that you mean
what you say."

"Oh, I do, I do!" exclaimed Dennis impulsively; then, with a realization
of the thin surface over which he was making such rapid strides despite
the danger signals of conventionality, and with a diplomacy born of his
native good sense, he glided, with cheerful Celtic sagacity, to safer
footing by asking abruptly: "May I recommend myself"--as