ckly. "Of course
you know it--you had a right to know it. I was gone on you from the
moment I first saw you. You were so--different. I thought it was just a
crush--that I could take it or leave it, you know--but you _are_
different. A man's just _got_ to have you----"

He waited. He had an idea that he had elucidated something. He felt that
he had raised an issue. But Maria Angelina stood like the bright eternal
snow, unhearing and unheeding and most devilishly cold.

"Only last night," said Johnny, explaining feverishly again, "you were
so funny and grand opera and all and I was mad and disgusted and grouchy
and I--I didn't know how much I cared myself. Look here, forget it, will
you, and begin again?"

"Begin what again?"

"Well, don't begin, then. Let's finish. Let's get married. I do want
you, Ri-Ri--I want you like the very deuce. After you had gone--Gee, it
was an awful night when I got over my mad. And coming down the mountain
this morning--I didn't know _what_ I was going to find! . . . So let's
forget it all--and get married," he repeated.

There was a pause. "Do you mean this?" said a still voice.

"Every word. That's what I was planning to tell you when I was running
down the mountain this morning. . . . And last night--if you'd gone at
me differently."

He looked at her. Something in that young figure made him say quickly,
"Will you, Ri-Ri?"

"I should like you," said Maria Angelina in a clear implacable little
voice, "to say that again, Signor Byrd, if you are in earnest."

"Oh, all right. Come on back, Barry. . . . I'm asking Ri-Ri to marry
me--and we'll announce the engagement any time she says. . . . There.
. . . Now I've got that off my chest."

"Thank you," said Maria Angelina. She looked neither at the embarrassed
Johnny nor the astounded Barry. "I will think about it and I will let
you know, Signor Byrd. Now please go."

"Well, of all the----" said Johnny blankly.

Then he looked at her. She was staring before her at something that she
alone could see. Her look was rather extraordinary. It occurred to
Johnny that after all she had a right to tantalize--and this was really
no moment for capitulation.

To-night, now, after dinner, when every one was fed and warm and comfy.
. . .

Still she might give a fellow a decent look. Hang it, he wasn't a
drygoods clerk offering himself!

"Come on, let her alone now," cut in Barry with a certain savage energy
that woke wonder in Johnny before