Chapter 13 - Page 2

may win me over; but when you do why fritter away our abilities upon this simple village when we have the capitals of all Europe to play around in?"

"There's something in that," said the Lizard; "but don't get it into your head for a minute that I am tryin' to drag you from the straight and narrow. I think I like you better the way you are."

"Did you ever," said Harriet Holden, "see anything so weird as the way we keep bumping into that stocking-counter young man?"

"No," said Elizabeth, "it's commencing to get on my nerves. Every time I turn a corner now I expect to bump into him. I suppose we see other people many times without recognizing them, but he is so utterly good-looking that he sort of sticks in one's memory."

"Do you know," said Harriet, "that I have a suspicion that he recognized us. I saw him looking up at us just after that other person knocked him down and I could have sworn that he blushed. And then, you know, he went in and was entirely different from what he had been in the two preceding rounds. Billy said that he is really a wonderful fighter, and there are not very many good fights that Billy misses. What in the world do you suppose his profession is anyway? Since we first noticed him he has been a hosiery clerk, a waiter, and a prize-fighter."

"I don't know, I am sure," said Eliza beth, yawning. "You seem to be terribly interested in him."

"I am," admitted Harriet frankly. "He's a regular adventure all in himself--a whole series of adventures."

"I've never been partial to serials," said Elizabeth.

"Well, I should think one would be a relief after a whole winter of heavy tragedy, "retorted Harriet.

"What do you mean?" asked Elizabeth.

"Oh, I mean Harold, of course," said Harriet. "He's gone around all winter with a grouch and a face a mile long. What's the matter with him anyway?"

"I don't know," sighed Elizabeth. "I'm afraid he's working too hard."

Harriet giggled.

"Oh, fiddlesticks! "she exclaimed. "You know perfectly well that Harold Bince will never work himself to death."

"Well, he is working hard, Harriet. Father says so. And he's worrying about the business, too. He's trying so hard to make good."

"I will admit that he has stuck to his job more faithfully than anybody expected him to."

Elizabeth turned slowly upon her friend, "You don't like Harold," she said; "why is it?"

Harriet shook her head.

"I do like him, Elizabeth, for your sake. I suppose the trouble is that I realize that he is not good enough for you. I have known him all my life, and even as a little child he was never sincere. Possibly he has changed now. I hope so. And then again I know as well as you do that you are not in love with him."

"How perfectly ridiculous!" cried Elizabeth. "Do you suppose that I would marry a man whom I didn't love?"