ery low and sweetly. Now what was it
she knew? You can take that two ways. All the compliments I get are so
ambiguous. But this did not occur to me till afterwards. So I went on
with my usual manly simplicity.

"Then you know there's no need of circumlocution and feminine wiles when
you want anything of me, Princess. You have but to speak, and, as the
Frenchman said, 'If it is possible, it shall be done: if it is
impossible, I can only regret that I can't do it.' What do you want me
to do now?"

"Nothing, Bob; nothing but to listen to me and be good."

"I am listening, Clarice: I've been listening all this time." This was
not quite true, for I had done most of the talking; but then what I said
was not of much account. When I am with her I often talk just to fill
the gaps.

"You can listen when I am ready to talk, and keep quiet till then. I
only want your sympathy."

"You have it, Clarice; you have it most fully. Come rest on this bosom,
my own stricken dear--"

"I don't want to rest on your bosom, Bob; your shoulder is big enough.
Have you got your best coat on?"

"Well, no; this is not the one I wore at dinner. But I will go to the
house and get my clawhammer if you wish."

"No, no. I only want to cry a little."

"You would be perfectly welcome to cry on my best coat every day of the
week, Princess, and I would get a new one as often as it might be
needed. I don't wish to make capital out of your grief, my dear; I would
rather never get a kind word from you than have you suffer. But often it
seems as if you didn't care for anybody, you are so high and mighty and
offish; and O doth not an hour like this make amends--"

"Drop that, Bob. Don't try to be sentimental: you always get the lines
wrong. I've not been here an hour. O, were you joking? You are no more
in the humor for jokes than I am, and you know it. Do keep quiet."

I did: I 'dropped it.' Clarice will use slang at times, it is one of
her few faults. Where she learns it, I cannot conceive. It is
unfeminine, and out of keeping with her whole character; in any one else
I should call it vulgar. But I saw she did not wish to be disturbed just
then, so I said no more. Instead, I thought of my guilty secret--her
secret. It weighs on me heavily; but I can't tell her what I saw and
heard. I don't know how she would take it; and I don't care to be
exploding any dynamite bombs about my own premises. The situation is bad
enough as it is; I'll not make it wor