like that."

As well as she could, her mother resisted the embrace.

"I can't believe," she said, gripping the edge of her desk with both
hands, "that you would jest about a solemn subject like that, Rose, and
yet it's incredible!... How many times have you seen him?"

"Oh, lots of times," Rose assured her, and began checking them off on
her fingers. "There was the first time, in the street-car, and the time
he brought the books back, and that other awful call he made one
evening, when we were all so suffocatingly polite. You know about those
times. But three or four times more, he's come down to the
university--he's great friends with several men in the law faculty, so
he's there quite a lot, anyway--but several times he's picked me up, and
we've gone for walks, miles and miles and miles, and we've talked and
talked and talked. So really, we know each other awfully well."

"I didn't know," said her mother in a voice still dull with astonishment,
"that you even liked him. You've been so silent--indifferent--both times
he was here to call...."

"Oh, I haven't learned yet to talk to him when any one else is around,"
Rose admitted. "There's so little to say, and it doesn't seem worth the
bother. But, truly, I do like him, mother. I like everything about him.
I love his looks--I don't mean just his eyes and nose and mouth. I like
the shape of his ears, and his hands. I like his big loud voice"--her
own broadened a little as she added, "and the way he swears. Oh, not at
me, mother! Just when he gets so interested in what he's saying that he
forgets I'm a lady.

"And I like the way he likes to fight--not with his fists, I mean,
necessarily. He's got the most wonderful mind to--wrestle with, you
know. I love to start an argument with him, just to see how easy it is
for him to--roll me in the dirt and walk all over me."

The mother freed herself from the girl's embrace, rose and walked away
to another chair. "If you'll talk rationally and seriously, my dear,"
she said, "we can continue the conversation. But this flippant,
rather--vulgar tone you're taking, pains me very much."

The girl flushed to the hair. "I didn't know I was being flippant and
vulgar," she said. "I didn't mean to be. I was just trying to tell
you--all about it."

"You've told me," said her mother, "that Mr. Aldrich has asked you to
marry him and that you've consented. It seems to me you have done so
hastily and thoughtlessly. He's told you he love