r rifles an' revolvers?"

"I am afraid of them."

"Or dogs?"

"I love dogs. I've got one home. His name is Pancho."

"What kind is he?" asked Bobby with a vast sigh of relief at finding a
common ground. He had been brought to realize yesterday that little
girls differ from boys; but for a few dreadful, floundering moments this
morning he had feared they might, so to speak, belong to a different
race. Afterward he realized that it would not have mattered even if she
had not liked dogs. He merely wished to be near her. When he left her he
immediately experienced the strongest longing to be again where he could
see her, and breathe the deep, intoxicating, delicious, clean influence
of her near presence. And yet with her his moments of unalloyed
happiness were few and his hours of sheer misery were many.
Self-consciousness had never troubled Bobby before; but now in the
presence of Gerald's slim elegance and easy, languid manner, he became
acutely aware of his own deficiencies. His clothes seemed coarser; his
hands and feet were awkward; his body dumpier; his face rounder and more
freckled. To him was born a great humility of spirit to match the great
longing of it.

Nevertheless, as has been said, he and Duke trudged down to the Ottawa
every morning, and again every afternoon, or as many of them as Mrs.
Orde permitted. He was content to come under the immediate spell of the
dancing, sprite-like, sunny little girl. No thought of the especial
effort to please, called courtship, entered his young head. He played
with the children, and kept as close to Her as possible; that was all.
And one evening, trudging home dangerously near six o'clock, he ran slap
against the legend chalked in huge letters on a board fence:

CELIA CARLETON and BOBBY ORDE

He stopped short, his heart jumping wildly. Often had he seen this
coupling of names, other names; and he knew that it was considered a
little of a shame, and somewhat of a glory. The sight confused him to
the depths of his soul; and yet it also pleased him. He rubbed out the
letters; but he walked on with new elation. The undesired but
authoritative sanction of public recognition had been given his
devotion. Gerald was not considered. Somebody had observed; so the
affair must be noticeable to others. And with another tremendous leap
of the heart Bobby welcomed the daring syllogism that, since the
somebody of the impertinent chalk had fathomed his devotion to her,
might i