-do you
follow me?"

"Perfectly," said he. "And then did the beautiful princess pine away?"

"Um--no," said Betty, pursing her lips. "But she had to dance terribly
hard to keep from thinking about herself." Then she laughed, and
exclaimed, "Dear me, we are getting poetical!" And next, looking sober
again, "Do you know, I was half afraid to talk to you. Ollie tells me
you're terribly serious. Are you?"

"I don't know," said Montague--but she broke in with a laugh, "We were
talking about you at dinner last night. They had some whipped cream
done up in funny little curliques, and Ollie said, 'Now, if my brother
Allan were here, he'd be thinking about the man who fixed this cream,
and how long it took him, and how he might have been reading "The
Simple Life."' Is that true?"

"It involves a question of literary criticism"--said Montague.

"I don't want to talk about literature," exclaimed the other. In truth,
she wanted nothing save to feel of his armour and find out if there
were any weak spots through which he could be teased. Montague was to
find in time that the adorable Miss Elizabeth was a very thorny species
of rose--she was more like a gay-coloured wasp, of predatory
temperament.

"Ollie says you want to go down town and work," she went on. "I think
you're awfully foolish. Isn't it much nicer to spend your time in an
imitation castle like this?"

"Perhaps," said he, "but I haven't any castle."

"You might get one," answered Betty. "Stay around awhile and let us
marry you to a nice girl. They will all throw themselves at your feet,
you know, for you have such a delicious melting voice, and you look
romantic and exciting." (Montague made a note to inquire whether it was
customary in New York to talk about you so frankly to your face.)

Miss Betty was surveying him quizzically meantime. "I don't know," she
said. "On second thoughts, maybe you'll frighten the girls. Then it'll
be the married women who'll fall in love with you. You'll have to watch
out."

"I've already been told that by my tailor," said Montague, with a laugh.

"That would be a still quicker way of making your fortune," said she.
"But I don't think you'd fit in the role of a tame cat."

"A _what_?" he exclaimed; and Miss Betty laughed.

"Don't you know what that is? Dear me--how charmingly naive! But
perhaps you'd better get Ollie to explain for you."

That brought the conversation to the subject of slang; and Montague, in
a sudden burs