ing much. Gee, you can't tell about her, can you? Say, are
you sure about your system? She was with me last Tuesday when I
punched the jaw off a man, and she hasn't treated me so well since I
knew her as she did after that. I was blame near opening on her again.
Blame near. What's the answer?"

"A passing mood, perhaps."

"Well, I'd like to get her in that mood often."

"And you'll find that she's furthest from you in those moods--it's in
them that she's least herself."

"This general girl proposition is a tough one," commented Bertram.
"All right. You know the dope."

"You poor, perplexed boy!"

"Say, isn't it time you began confiding?"

"Oh, you caught it--the letter I mean--There are few things those eyes
of yours don't see!"

"Man?" he continued, ignoring the compliment.

"Yes. It's a dreadful perplexity."

"Tell your old uncle!"

"Perhaps."

"You're in love?"

"I--I was. You see--ah, it's gone past the place where it should have
ended!"

"Then why don't you break it off?"

"That's all very well to say, but he's a good man, and he says he's
crazy about me. Do I seem happy to you?"

"Middling."

"I am--sometimes. Then something like to-day comes, and it puts me
clear down in the heart. I have to keep up laughing and being gay when
I'm all torn to pieces. I feel that I oughtn't to keep him in suspense
this way. He's young, he's fairly rich--if that counted. When he's
here, I often think I do--love him. When he writes, I know I don't."

"Poor little girl!" said Bert, catching sympathetically at the
half-sob in her voice.

"Thank you," answered Kate on an indrawn breath. And then, "What would
you do? I'm only a girl after all, am I not? Here I'm leaning on you,
asking for advice."

Bertram did not answer for a time. Then:

"Sure you don't love him?"

"Not--not entirely. I might if he made me."

Bertram was looking straight down on her. His mouth was pursed up.

"Suppose he made you--and after you'd married him you got to feeling
again as you do now. That wouldn't be square to him, would it?"

"I--perhaps not. But oh, it would hurt him so!"

"I guess he could live through it. They usually do, and don't lose
many meals at that. I think he's running a bluff, myself."

Kate drew slightly away from him.

"That's a poor compliment."

Bertram studied her meaning.

"What?"

"To say that a man _couldn't_ get crazy over me."

"Oh! Not on your life. Sure thing no. I don't know a girl an