ettuce under the bridge; and she knew exactly where the wild clematis
grew that would whiten his embankment after his workmen had extracted
the last root of poison oak.

"It may not scorch you, Peter," she said gravely, "but you must look out
for the Missus and the little things. I haven't definitely decided on
her yet, but she looks a good deal like Mary Louise Whiting to mc. I saw
her the other day. She came to school after Donald. I liked her looks
so well that I said to myself: 'Everybody talks about how fine she is.
I shouldn't wonder if I had better save her for Peter'; but if I decide
to, you should act that poison stuff out, because it's sure as shooting
to attack any one with the soft, delicate skin that goes with a golden
head."

"Oh, let's leave it in," said Peter, "and dispense with the golden head.
By the time you get that stream planted as you're planning, I'll have
become so accustomed to a dark head bobbing up and down beside it that
I won't take kindly to a sorrel top." "That is positively sacrilegious,"
said Linda, lifting her hands to her rough black hair. "Never in my life
saw anything lovelier than the rich gold on Louise Whiting's bare head
as she bent to release her brakes and start her car. A black head looks
like a cinder bed beside it; and only think what a sunburst it will be
when Mary Louise kneels down beside the iris."

When they had finished their supper Linda gathered up the remnants and
put them in the car, then she laid a notebook and pencil on the table.

"Now I want to hear that article," she said. "I knew you would do it
over the minute I was gone, and I knew you would keep it to read to me
before you sent it."

"Hm," said Peter. "Is it second sight or psychoanalysis or telepathy, or
what?"

"Mostly 'what'," laughed Linda. "I merely knew. The workmen are gone and
everything is quiet now, Peter. Begin. I am crazy to get the particular
angle from which you 'make the world safe for democracy.' John used to
call our attention to your articles during the war. He said we had
not sent another man to France who could write as humanely and as
interestingly as you did. I wish I had kept those articles; because I
didn't get anything from them to compare with what I can get since I
have a slight acquaintance with the procession that marches around
your mouth. Peter, you will have to watch that mouth of yours. It's an
awfully betraying feature. So long as it's occupied with politics
and th