th struggling emotions.

"Dear Tom," she murmured again.

"Oh, are you in earnest?" he almost sobbed. "Could you take me, Elsie?
Let me be your slave--ready to tend you--to care for you--only living
for your happiness!"

Elsie shook her head archly:

"You would grow tired of petting me."

"Never, never! You know it!"

"I should be a dreadful little tyrant--it is in my nature; you would
never have a will of your own."

"I wouldn't want it; I wouldn't ask it!"

"I should flirt and drive you wild."

"I would never try to stop you."

"I should tease you incessantly."

"You'd only make me the happier."

"I should tell you all sorts of fibs."

"There would be no necessity, for I would not dispute your wishes."

"You would grow tired of that."

"Only try me."

"You couldn't love me always, and pet me, and never get out of patience,
and think I was perfect."

"I could--I should--I always shall! Oh, Elsie, Elsie, I love you so--I
love you so!"

"Get up, Tom; you are a foolish old goosey!"

Tom started to his feet; those playful words were a cruel waking. He
stood before her painfully white, and there was a suppressed sob in his
voice as he cried, in passionate reproach:

"Oh, Elsie! Elsie!"

She gave a wicked laugh at his distress.

"So you really were in earnest?" she demanded.

"You know that I was," he said. "You are cruel--cruel!"

"Ah, now you are angry--now you begin to hate me!"

"Never, Elsie! If you tore my heart and stamped on it, I could not hate
you."

"But you are angry; and you said you could be patient."

"I could, if you cared for me only the least bit!"

"Oh, you selfish monster! There, Tom, kneel down again; you have shaken
my flower out of your coat."

"No," said Tom, passionately; "I can't play now! This is dreadful
earnest to me, Elsie, however great sport it may be to you."

"Then you refuse my gift?"

"I can't trifle now--don't ask it."

"And you mean to rush off and leave me?"

"I had better."

"Very well. If you refuse me my one little wish!"

"I'll stay if you want me to," cried Tom. "I'll do anything you bid me.
But do be serious for a minute, Elsie. Just answer me one question."

"Only one? Will that satisfy you?"

"To set the matter at rest," pursued he. "I'll never trouble you again.
I won't open my lips----"

"Then how shall I know what you want to ask?" she interrupted.

Tom fairly groaned.

"I do believe you are a witch, Elsie; one of those s