nd he was fool enough to add, "She's so affectionate!"

His mother kept herself from laughing. "I dare say she is, Dan--with
you." Then she hid all but her eyes with the photograph, and gave way.

"What a donkey!" said Dan, meaning himself. "If I go on, I shall disgust
you with her. What I mean is that she isn't at all proud, as I used to
think she was."

"No girl is, under the circumstances. She has all she can do to be proud
of you."

"Do you think so, mother?" he said, enraptured with the notion. "I've
done my best--or my worst--not to give her any reason to be so."

"She doesn't 'want any--the less the better. You silly boy! Don't you
suppose she wants to make you out of whole cloth just as you do with
her? She doesn't want any facts to start with; they'd be in the way.
Well, now, I can make out, with your help, what the young lady is;
but what are the father and mother? They're rather important in these
cases."

"Oh, they're the nicest kind of people," said Dan, in optimistic
generalisation. "You'd like Mrs. Pasmer. She's awfully nice."

"Do you say that because you think I wouldn't?" asked his mother. "Isn't
she rather sly and hum-bugging?"

"Well, yes, she is, to a certain extent," Dan admitted, with a laugh.
"But she doesn't mean any harm by it. She's extremely kind-hearted."

"To you? I dare say. And Mr. Pasmer is rather under her thumb?"

"Well, yes, you might say thumb," Dan consented, feeling it useless to
defend the Pasmers against this analysis.

"We won't say heel," returned his mother; "we're too polite. And your
father says he had the reputation in college of being one of the most
selfish fellows in the world. He's never done anything since but lose
most of his money. He's been absolutely idle and useless all his days."
She turned her vivid blue eyes suddenly upon her son's.

Dan winced. "You know how hard father is upon people who haven't done
anything. It's a mania of his. Of course Mr. Pasmer doesn't show to
advantage where there's no--no leisure class."

"Poor man!"

Dan was going to say, "He's very amiable, though," but he was afraid
of his mother's retorting, "To you?" and he held his peace, looking
chapfallen.

Whether his mother took pity on him or not, her next sally was
consoling. "But your Alice may not take after either of them. Her father
is the worst of his breed, it seems; the rest are useful people,
from what your father knows, and there's a great deal to be hoped for