Our Mr. Wrenn

He was home. He went happily up the stairs. He would dream of Nelly, and-Nelly's door opened, and she peered out, drawing her peignoir about her.

"Oh," she said, softly, "is it you?"

"Yes. My, you're up late."

"Do you--Are you all right?"

He dashed down the hall and stood shyly scratching at the straw of his newest hat.

"Why yes, Nelly, course. Poor--Oh, don't tell me you have a headache again?"

"No--I was awful foolish, of course, but I saw you when you went out this evening, and you looked so savage, and you didn't look very well."

"But now it's all right."

"Then good night."

"Oh no--listen--please do! I went over to the place Miss Nash is living at, because I was pretty sure that I ain't hipped on her--sort of hypnotized by her--any more. And I found I ain't! I ain't! I don't know what to say, I want to--I want you to know that from going to try and see if I can't get you to care for me." He was dreadfully earnest, and rather quiet, with the dignity of the man who has found himself. "I'm scared," he went on, "about saying this, because maybe you'll think I've got an idea I'm kind of a little tin god, and all I've got to do is to say which girl I'll want and she'll come a-running, but it isn't that; it isn't. It's just that I want you to know I'm going to give all of me to you now if I can get you to want me. And I am glad I knew Istra--she learnt me a lot about books and all, so I have more to me, or maybe will have, for you. It's --Nelly--promise you'll be--my friend--promise--If you knew how I rushed back here tonight to see you!"

"Billy--"

She held out her hand, and he grasped it as though it were the sacred symbol of his dreams.

"To-morrow," she smiled, with a hint of tears, "I'll be a reg'lar lady, I guess, and make you explain and explain like everything, but now I'm just glad. Yes," defiantly, "I will admit it if I want to! I am glad!"

Her door closed.