h glamour about her that
even a brother was obliged to consider her rather handsome. She
looked more than handsome now, so strangely lovely, in fact, that
his eyes watered painfully with the protracted struggle to read a
little of the writing in her book before she discovered him.

He gave it up at last, and lounged forward blinking, with the air
of finding it sweet to do nothing.

"Whatch' writin'?" he asked in simple carelessness.

At the first sound of his movement she closed the book in a flash;
then, with a startled, protective gesture, extended her arms over
it, covering it.

"What is it, Hedrick?" she asked, breathlessly.

"What's the padlock for?"

"Nothing," she panted. "What is it you want?"

"You writin' poetry?"

Laura's eyes dilated; she looked dangerous.

"Oh, I don't care about your old book," said Hedrick, with an
amused nonchalance Talleyrand might have admired. "There's
callers, and you have to come down."

"Who sent you?"

"A man I've often noticed around the house," he replied
blightingly. "You may have seen him--I think his name's Madison.
His wife and he both sent for you."

One of Laura's hands instinctively began to arrange her hair, but
the other remained upon the book. "Who is it calling?"

"Richard Lindley and that Wade Trumble."

Laura rose, standing between her brother and the table. "Tell
mother I will come down."

Hedrick moved a little nearer, whereupon, observing his eye, she
put her right hand behind her upon the book. She was not deceived,
and boys are not only superb strategic actors sometimes, but
calamitously quick. Appearing to be unaware of her careful
defence, he leaned against the wall and crossed his feet in an
original and interesting manner.

"Of course _you_ understand," he said cosily. "Cora wants to keep
this Corliss in a corner of the porch where she can coo at him; so
you and mother'll have to raise a ballyhoo for Dick Lindley and
that Wade Trumble. It'd been funny if Dick hadn't noticed anybody
was there and kissed her. What on earth does he want to stay
engaged to her for, anyway?"

"You don't know that she is engaged to Mr. Lindley, Hedrick."

"Get out!" he hooted. "What's the use talking like that to me? A
blind mackerel could see she's let poor old Lindley think he's
High Man with her these last few months; but he'll have to hit the
pike now, I reckon, 'cause this Corliss is altogether too
pe-rin-sley for Dick's class. Lee roy est mort. Viv