ever given you the slightest encouragement to
ask me that?" She hesitated a moment, puffed again and added: "We have
been friends, I think; let us remain so."

Annandale, who was in loose white flannels, contemplated his tight
white shoes. Then his eyes sought hers. "Are you interested in
Loftus?"

"That is none of your business," Fanny proudly and promptly replied.
As she spoke she got from her seat, approached the casement, gazed out
and away.

"I do not believe you are," Annandale announced to her slender waist.
"But if I am wrong, it is hardly disloyalty to him to say that he is
not good enough for you."

Beneath the tower was a tennis court. Fanny made a face at it. But the
face must have been insufficient. Looking over her shoulder at
Annandale, she showed her teeth.

"Do you fancy a girl cares for a man because he is or is not good
enough? When a girl cares she cares because she cannot help herself."

"I know that is the way with a man, or at least with me. I cannot help
caring for you."

"Nor could you help caring for Sylvia."

"She is so different."

"Yes," said Fanny dreamily, "and so are you." Though to whom she
referred she did not say, nor did Annandale ask. She gave him no
chance. "Next month you will not be able to help caring for some other
girl."

"Not if you would take me."

"But, you see, I don't care for you."

"But couldn't you?" Annandale persisted. "Couldn't you if you tried?
Of course, in saying that Loftus is not good enough for you I don't
mean that I am. But if you could try I would."

At this program Fanny laughed. "We should be a pair of Christian
Endeavorers, shouldn't we?"

To the levity of that Annandale found no immediate reply. Yet
presently, with an irrelevance more obvious than real, he threw out:
"He has gone abroad, you know."

"Who? Loftus?"

"Yes, for a year, I believe."

Fanny turned to the tennis court again. It was, though, not that which
she saw, but a hope that was slipping away, sinking away, sinking down
into death dishonored. For a moment she was very still. A movement of
Annandale's aroused her.

"Come," she said. "It is hot here. Let us go."

Gathering a fold of her skirt, Fanny descended the stair. Annandale
filed after. On a balcony below a lady with faded hair and gimlet eyes
pounced at her.

"I have been hunting for you everywhere," the lady exclaimed. "Aren't
you going to dress?" Then she nodded to Annandale.

Annandale touched his ca