became seriously
curious.

"_Is_ there any reason why you should not walk with me?" she persisted.

The clear, direct gaze challenged him. He hesitated.

"Yes, there is," he said.

"A--a reason why you should not walk with me?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

And, as he did not find words to answer, she studied him for a moment,
glanced up and down the woodland walk, then impulsively seated herself
and motioned him to a place beside her on the bench.

"Now," she said, "I'm in a position to find out just what this danger is
that they all warn me about. _You_ know, don't you?"

"Know what?" he answered.

"About the danger that I seem to run every time I manage to enjoy
myself.... And you _do_ know; I see it by the way you look at me--and
your expression is just like their expression when they tell me not to
do things I find most natural."

"But--I--you----"

"You _must_ tell me! I shall be thoroughly vexed with you if you don't."

Then he began to laugh, and she let him, leaning back to watch him with
uncertain and speculative blue eyes. After a moment he said:

"You are absolutely unlike any girl I ever heard of. I am trying to get
used to it--to adjust things. Will you help me?"

"How?" she asked innocently.

"Well, by telling me"--he looked at her a moment--"your age. You look
about nineteen."

"I am sixteen and a half. I and all my sisters have developed our bodies
so perfectly because, until we came to New York last autumn, we had
lived all our lives out-of-doors." She looked at him with a friendly
smile. "Would you really like to know about us?"

"Intensely."

"Well, there are eight of us: Chlorippe, thirteen; Philodice, fourteen;
Dione, fifteen; Aphrodite, sixteen--I am Aphrodite; Cybele, seventeen,
married; Lissa, eighteen, married; Iole, nineteen, married, and Vanessa,
twenty, married." She raised one small, gloved finger to emphasize the
narrative. "All our lives we were brought up to be perfectly natural, to
live, act, eat, sleep, play like primitive people. Our father dressed us
like youths--boys, you know. Why," she said earnestly, "until we came to
New York we had no idea that girls wore such lovely, fluffy
underwear--but I believe I am not to mention such things; at least they
have told me not to--but my straight front is still a novelty to me, and
so are my stockings, so you won't mind if I've said something I
shouldn't, will you?"

"No," he said; his face was expressionless.

"Then _