ris! You really are extremely nice in some ways; and if you
had only a little more heart you would be adorable. And I don't believe
you are naturally unfeeling, do you?"

"No--I do not; but I sometimes wish I was."

"Don't say that. It is only that you haven't developed that side of you
sufficiently; I feel sure the heart is there, but it is dormant. So now
you will talk more about feelings, won't you?"

"I won't promise that. It is rather stupid to talk about things that one
doesn't understand; I am sure this is correct, for I have often heard
you say so."

"But talking to me about your feelings might help you to understand
them, don't you see?"

"Or might help you."

"Oh! I don't want any help; feelings are among the few things that I can
understand without any assistance. But you are sure you are all right,
Chris, and haven't got a headache or anything?" And the anxious
expression returned to Elisabeth's face.

"My head is very well, thank you."

"You don't feel any pain?"

"In my head? distinctly not."

"You are quite well, you are certain?"

"Perfectly certain and quite well. What a fidget you are! Apparently you
attach as much importance to rosy cheeks as Mother Hankey does."

"A pale face and dark hair are in her eyes the infallible signs of a
depraved nature," laughed Elisabeth; "and I have both."

"Yet you fly at me for having one, and that only for a short time.
Considering your own shortcomings, you should be more charitable."

Elisabeth laughed again as she patted his arm in a sisterly fashion.
"Nice old boy! I am awfully glad you are all right. It would make me
miserable if anything went really wrong with you, Chris."

"Then nothing shall go really wrong with me, and you shall not be
miserable," said Christopher stoutly; "and, therefore, it is fortunate
that I don't possess much heart--things generally go wrong with the
people who have hearts, you know, and not with the people who have not;
so we perceive how wise was the poet in remarking that whatever is is
made after the best possible pattern, or words to that effect." With
which consoling remark he took leave of his liege-lady.

The friendship between Alan Tremaine and Elisabeth Farringdon grew apace
during the next twelve months. His mind was of the metaphysical and
speculative order, which is interesting to all women; and hers was of
the volatile and vivacious type which is attractive to some men. They
discussed everything under th