on; what kind of fun did you have? I like to hear about girls' scrapes.
We had plenty of them at college, but I couldn't tell you half of
them." He had settled himself beside her now, his appropriating eyes
still taking in her beauty.

"Oh, all kinds," she replied as she bent her head and glanced at the
blossoms on her breast to be assured of their protective covering.

"But I shouldn't think you could have much fun with the teachers
watching you every minute," said Bart, moving nearer to her and turning
his body so he could look squarely into her eyes.

"Yes, but they didn't find out half that was going on." Then she added
coyly, "I don't know whether you can keep a secret--do you tell
everything you hear?"

"Never tell anything."

"How do I know?"

"I'll swear it." In proof he held up one hand and closed both eyes in
mock reverence as if he were taking an oath. He was getting more
interested now in her talk; up to this time her beauty had dazzled him.
"Never! So help me--" he mumbled impressively.

"Well, one day we were walking out to the park--Now you're sure you
won't tell sister, she's so easily shocked?" The tone was the same, but
the inflection was shaded to closer intimacy.

Again Bart cast up his eyes.

"And all the girls were in a string with Miss Griggs, the Latin
teacher, in front, and we all went in a cake shop and got a big piece
of gingerbread apiece. We were all eating away hard as we could when we
saw Miss Sarah coming. Every girl let her cake go, and when Miss Sarah
got to us the whole ten pieces were scattered along the sidewalk."

Bart looked disappointed over the mild character of the scrape. From
what he had seen of her he had supposed her adventures would be
seasoned with a certain spice of deviltry.

"I wouldn't have done that, I'd have hidden it in my pocket," he
replied, sliding down on the sofa until his head rested on the cushion
next her own.

"We tried, but she was too close. Poor old Griggsey got a dreadful
scolding. She wasn't like Miss Jones--she wouldn't tell on the girls."

"And did they let any of the fellows come to see you?" Bart asked.

"No; only brothers and cousins once in a long while. Maria Collins
tried to pass one of her beaux, Max Feilding, off as a cousin, but Miss
Sarah went down to see him and poor Maria had to stay upstairs."

"I'd have got in," said Bart with some emphasis, rousing himself from
his position and twisting his body so he could again loo