hardly keep from
screaming in his face. But Hilda's crazy over him, as you see. He
tells all sorts of romances about himself, and she believes every word.
I think she'll marry him--you know, her father lets her do as she
pleases. Isn't it funny that a sensible girl like Hilda can be so
foolish?"

Heilig did not answer this, nor did he heed the talk on love and
marriage which the over-eager Sophie proceeded to give. And it was
talk worth listening to, as it presented love and marriage in the
interesting, romantic-sensible Avenue A light. Otto was staring
gloomily at the shadow of the tree. He would have been gloomier could
he have witnessed the scene to which the unmoral old elm was lending
its impartial shade.

Mr. Feuerstein was holding Hilda's hand while he looked soulfully down
into her eyes. She was returning his gaze, her eyes expressing all
the Schwarmerei of which their dark depths were capable at nineteen.
He was telling her what a high profession the actor's was, how great he
was as an actor, how commonplace her life there, how beautiful he could
make it if only he had money. It was an experience to hear Mr.
Feuerstein say the word "money." Elocution could go no further in
surcharging five letters with contempt. His was one of those lofty
natures that scorn all such matters of intimate concern to the humble,
hard-pressed little human animal as food, clothing and shelter. He so
loathed money that he would not deign to work for it, and as rapidly as
possible got rid of any that came into his possession.

"Yes, my adorable little princess," he rolled out, in the tones which
wove a spell over Hilda. "I adore you. How strange that _I_ should
have wandered into THIS region for my soul's bride--and should have
found her!"

Hilda pressed his clasping hand and her heart fluttered. But she was
as silent and shy as Heilig with her. What words had she fit to
express response to these exalted emotions? "I--I feel it," she said
timidly. "But I can't say it to you. You must think me very foolish."

"No--you need not speak. I know what you would say. Our hearts speak
each to the other without words, my beautiful jewel. And what do you
think your parents will say?"

"I--I don't know," stammered Hilda.

"They are so set on my marrying"--she glanced toward Otto--how ordinary
he looked!--"marrying another--a merchant like my father. They think
only of what is practical. I'm so afraid they won't und