"Yes. Those were, I believe, his exact words. Can you wonder that I

hardly know how I stand in your sight?"

"I do not at all understand," she faltered. "Truly, Lieutenant Brant,

I do not. I feel that Mr. Hampton would not say that without a good

and sufficient reason. He is not a man to be swayed by prejudice; yet,

whatever the reason may be, I know nothing about it."

"But you do not answer my last query."

"Perhaps I did not hear it."

"It was, How do I stand in your sight? That is of far more importance

to me now than any unauthorized command from Mr. Hampton."

She glanced up into his serious face shyly, with a little dimple of

returning laughter. "Indeed; but perhaps he might not care to have me

say. However, as I once informed you that you were very far from being

my ideal, possibly it may now be my duty to qualify that harsh

statement somewhat."

"By confessing that I am your ideal?"

"Oh, indeed, no! We never realize our ideals, you know, or else they

would entirely cease to be ideals. My confession is limited to a mere

admission that I now consider you a very pleasant young man."

"You offer me a stone when I cry unto you for bread," he exclaimed.

"The world is filled with pleasant young men. They are a drug on the

market. I beg some special distinction, some different classification

in your eyes."

"You are becoming quite hard to please," her face turned partially

away, her look meditative, "and--and dictatorial; but I will try. You

are intelligent, a splendid dancer, fairly good-looking, rather bright

at times, and, no doubt, would prove venturesome if not held strictly

to your proper place. Take it all in all, you are even interesting,

and--I admit--I am inclined to like you."

The tantalizing tone and manner nerved him; he grasped the white hand

resting invitingly on the grass, and held it firmly within his own.

"You only make sport as you did once before. I must have the whole

truth."

"Oh, no; to make sport at such a time would be sheerest mockery, and I

would never dare to be so free. Why, remember we are scarcely more

than strangers. How rude you are! only our third time of meeting, and

you will not release my hand."

"Not unless I must, Naida," and the deep ringing soberness of his voice

startled the girl into suddenly uplifting her eyes to his face. What

she read there instantly changed her mood from playfulness to earnest

gravity.




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