As a matter of fact, Jimmy had danced with many girls; true, it was
usually when there was no other man left to "do duty"; but still he
had done it. Why then should he feel such distressing hesitation about
placing his arm around the waist of this brown-eyed Diana? Try as he
would he could not find words to break the silence that had fallen
between them. She was so imposing; so self-controlled. It really seemed
to Jimmy that she should be the one to ask him to dance. As a matter
of fact, that was just what happened; and after the dance she suggested
that they sit in the garden; and in the garden, with the moonlight
barely peeping through the friendly overhanging boughs of the trees,
Jimmy found Aggie capable of a courage that filled him with amazement;
and later that night, when he and Alfred exchanged confidences, it
became apparent to the latter that Aggie had volunteered to undertake
the responsibility of outlining Jimmy's entire future.
He was to follow his father's wishes and take up a business career in
Chicago at once; and as soon as all the relatives concerned on both
sides had been duly consulted, he and Aggie were to embark upon
matrimony.
"Good!" cried Alfred, when Jimmy had managed to stammer his shame-faced
confession. "We'll make it a double wedding. I can be ready to-morrow,
so far as I'm concerned." And then followed another rhapsody upon the
fitness of Zoie as the keeper of his future home and hearth, and the
mother of his future sons and daughters. In fact, it was far into the
night when the two friends separated--separated in more than one sense,
as they afterward learned.
While Alfred and Jimmy were saying "good-night" to each other, Zoie and
Aggie in one of the pretty chintz bedrooms of Professor Peck's modest
home, were still exchanging mutual confidences.
"The thing I like about Alfred," said Zoie, as she gazed at the tip of
her dainty satin slipper, and turned her head meditatively to one side,
"is his positive nature. I've never before met any one like him. Do you
know," she added with a sly twinkle in her eye, "it was all I could do
to keep from laughing at him. He's so awfully serious." She giggled to
herself at the recollection of him; then she leaned forward to Aggie,
her small hands clasped across her knees and her face dimpling with
mischief. "He hasn't the remotest idea what I'm like."
Aggie studied her young friend with unmistakable reproach. "I MADE
Jimmy know what I'M like," she said. "I told him ALL my ideas about
everything."