was less self-conscious
and showed a higher polish. He had twice sent her roses and once a new
novel, and these remembrances had not been without their effect. It was
imaginable that his tolerance of the simple sociabilities of Montgomery
was attributable to an interest in Phil, who dreamed a great deal these
days; and there was space enough in the ivory tower of her fancy to
enshrine lovers innumerable. Charles was a personable young man,
impressionable and emotional, and not without imagination of his own.
Her humor, and the healthy common-sense philosophy that flowered from
it, were the girl's only protection from her own emotionalism and
susceptibility. Even in the larger world of the capital there was no
girl as pretty as Phil, Charles assured himself; she was not only
agreeable to look at, but she piqued him by her indifference to his
advances. His usual cajoleries only provoked retorts that left him
blinking, not certain whether they were intended to humble him or to
stimulate him to more daring efforts.

"You're the only girl in the bunch who skates as though she loved it.
You do everything as though it was your last hour on earth and you meant
to make the most of it. I like that. It's the way I feel about things
myself. If I had your spirit I'd conquer the world."

"Well, the world is here to be conquered," said Phil. "What peak have
you picked to plant your flag on?"

"Oh, I want money first--you've got to have it these days to do things
with; and then I think I'd like power. I'd go in for politics--the
governor's chair or the senate. If father hadn't died he could have got
the governorship easy; he was entitled to it and it would have come
along just in the course of things. What would you like to do best of
all?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe it. I don't want a thing I haven't
got--not a single thing. On a day like this everything is mine--that
long piece of woods over there--black against the blue sky--and the
creek underfoot--I couldn't ask for a single other thing!"

"But there must be a goal you want to reach--everybody has that."

"Oh, you're talking about to-morrow! and this is to-day. And sufficient
unto the day is the joy thereof. If I ever told anybody what I mean to
do to-morrow, it would be spoiled. I'm full of dark secrets that I never
tell any one."

"But you might tell me--I'm the best possible person to tell secrets
to."

"I can't be sure of that, when I hardly know you at al