discuss and they discussed them so earnestly and withal, as it
seemed to them, so wittily and wisely that they were blissfully unaware
of the significant smiles going around the table. When the coffee was
served, David surveyed his cup stupidly.

"Does it strike you," he inquired, "that they've hurried this dinner out
of all reason?"

"It has been the usual length, I believe."

"Funny--I've a hazy recollection of fish--and of an ice just now--but
entree and salad and the rest are a total blank."

"Very funny!" she agreed.

"But the queerest of all--" He broke off, with a laugh that did not
quite reach his eyes.

"Yes?" she queried provocatively, knowing that one of his daring bits was
coming.

"The queerest of all," he repeated, "is that you should turn out to
be--_you_."

"No queerer than--" Then she broke off, with a laugh that did reach her
eyes.

The next afternoon they played golf. It was at the fifth tee that they
abandoned the last pretense of formality. She topped her drive
wretchedly; the ball rolled a scant ten feet.

"Oh, David!" she cried. "Did you ever see anything so _awful_?"

"Many times," answered David, who was looking at her, not at the ball.
"I've often wondered," he mused raptly, "how 'David' would sound, set to
music."

He was rewarded by her rippling, musical laugh. "You say the absurdest
things--and the nicest."

They pursued her recalcitrant ball until it led them, by many zigzags, to
an old elm that had upset more than one good game. But they did not
swear at it. They sat down under its generous shade, David lighted a
cigarette and they gave themselves to a more agreeable exercise. They
pretended to define it.

"I suppose," Shirley broke a brief intimate silence, "people think we're
having a violent flirtation. But we're not, are we?"

"Certainly not," said David with emphasis.

"They couldn't understand. We're just naturally meant to be good friends
and it didn't take us an age to find that out."

"Yes," said David slowly.

"Tell me about yourself."

He tried to make it interesting but when he came to the point there was
really little to tell.

"But that isn't all. You haven't told me why people are so confident of
your future."

"I don't know that. Sometimes I wonder whether they've the right to be
confident."

"You've been very successful, haven't you?"

He shook his head. "I'm still poor--so poor you'd probably call it
indecent--with my way t