One moment
he wished that she could go along; the next he exulted over the idea of
being in a house with a crowd of fellows. While he talked a boy came to
the door and was dragged in by a ruthless hand. While they ate
quantities of hot waffles they talked of the "fellows and girls." For
the most part they talked of the girls. The sister heard new phrases--a
new language; he had always used a different one to her. They spoke of
girls as "four-flushers," as "easies," as "stiffs" and "stand-patters."
Occasionally Floyd stopped in the centre of a remark and nodded his head
warningly towards his sister, but the talkative John rambled on,
speaking in a free and easy way of the girls he had grown up with.

During the last year Floyd had ceased to talk to his sister about his
girl friends, and they seldom came to his home. In her presence his
comrades talked continually of school; but if she was busy near she
could hear them laughing and chatting in tones different from the ones
they used when she was there. She had tried in every way she could to
attract them to her home, for formerly they had come in great crowds.
But Floyd did not seem to want them; he preferred going to their homes.
At times she wondered if she had been in their way when they had come.

When the two girls came she greeted them warmly; they had belonged to
the crowd which had come in the past often for cookies and for help in
long, knotty problems. Then, thinking they might not remain if she was
present, she went into the next room. Through the open door she watched
them. She could not help watching; she had been deprived of all her
girlhood and now she wanted to enjoy theirs.

Dorothy, a dimpled, laughing girl with great, brown eyes and masses of
curls which were always rumpled, threw her hat into a chair and was soon
seated between the two boys, showing them the posters she had made for
Floyd. The sister saw Floyd move very close to the girl and lay his hand
on her shoulder with a caressing movement; she caught the glance that
he gave--a glance full of bold admiration and meaning. Rose stood near
the table, watching the other girl. In her eyes was a look of longing,
and yet it was mingled with fear. The three on the sofa soon drew her
into their circle, John was open in his admiration of both girls; he
tried to distribute his caresses with an impartial hand, but the little
Rose drew away with that expression of dread in her eyes. Floyd was not
so bold; h