remarks, and the biggest
fool is the one who cares. Are you sure that you didn't make any
remarks yourself, Virginia?"

Virginia instantly bridled, and looked the picture of injured
innocence.

"Certainly not!" she retorted. "Do you think that I would talk about
such a delicate matter before others?"

"Oh no; I suppose not. But you could look wise and foolish at the same
time when Maxwell's name was mentioned, with a coy and kittenish air
which would suggest more than ten volumes of Mary Jane Holmes."

"You are not very sympathetic, Mrs. Burke, when I am in deep trouble.
I want your help, not ridicule and abuse."

"Well, I am sorry for you, Virginia, in more ways than one. But really
I'd like to know what reason you have to think that Donald Maxwell was
ever in love with you; I suppose that's what you mean."

Virginia blushed deeply, as became a gentle maiden of her tender
years, and replied:

"Oh, it is not a question of things which one can easily define. Love
is vocal without words, you know."

"Hm! You don't mean that he made love to you and proposed to you
through a phonograph? You know I had some sort of idea that love that
was all wool, and a yard wide, and meant business, usually got vocal
at times."

"But Mr. Maxwell and I were thrown together in such an intimate way in
parish work, you know."

"Which did the throwing?"

"You don't for one moment suppose that I would intrude myself, or
press myself on his attention, do you?"

"Oh my gracious, no! He is not the kind of a man to be easily
impressed. He may have seen a girl or two before he met you; of course
I mean just incidentally, as it were. Now, Virginia Bascom, allow me
to ask you one or two plain questions. Did he ever ask you to marry
him?"

"No, not in so many words."

"Did he ever give you any plain indication that he wanted to marry
you? Did he ever play the mandolin under your window at midnight? Did
he ever steal one of your gloves, or beg for a rose out of your
bouquet, or turn the gas out when he called?"

"No, but one night he sat on the sofa with me and told me that I was a
great assistance to him in his parish work, and that he felt greatly
indebted to me."

"Hm! That's certainly rather pronounced, isn't it? Did you call your
father, or rise hastily and leave the room, or what did you do?"

"Well, of course it was not a proposal, but the way he did it was very
suggestive, and calculated to give a wrong impression, especi