erceiving a sudden advent of apprehension upon the sensitive
brow of William, he went on reassuringly: "He's doin' as well as anybody
could expect; that is--after the crazy way he DID! He's always been
considered the dumbest one in all our relations--never did know how
to act. I don't mean he's exactly not got his senses, or ought to be
watched, anything like that--and of course he belongs to an awful
good family--but he's just kind of the black sheep when it comes to
intelligence, or anything like that. I got him as comfortable as a
person could be, and they're givin' him hot water and mustard and stuff,
but what he needs now is just to be kind of quiet. It'll do him a lot o'
good," Johnnie concluded, with a spark in his voice, "to lay there the
rest of the afternoon and get quieted down, kind of."

"You don't think there's any--" William began, and, after a pause,
continued--"any hope--of his getting strong enough to come out and dance
afterwhile?"

Johnnie shook his head. "None in the world!" he said, conclusively. "The
best we can do for him is to let him entirely alone till after supper,
and then ask nobody to sit on the back seat of the trolley-car goin'
home, so we can make him comfortable back there, and let him kind of
stretch out by himself."

Then gaily tinkled harp, gaily sang flute and violin! Over the
greensward William lightly bore his lady, while radiant was the cleared
sky above the happy dancers. William's fingers touched those delicate
fingers; the exquisite face smiled rosily up to him; undreamable
sweetness beat rhythmically upon his glowing ears; his feet moved in a
rhapsody of companionship with hers. They danced and danced and danced!

Then Joe danced with her, while William and Johnnie stood with hands
upon each other's shoulders and watched, mayhap with longing, but
without spite; then Johnnie danced with her while Joe and William
watched--and then William danced with her again.

So passed the long, ineffable afternoon away--ah, Seventeen!

"... 'Jav a good time at the trolley-party?" the clerk in the corner
drug-store inquired that evening.

"Fine!" said William, taking his overcoat from the hook where he had
left it.

"How j' like them Little Sweethearts I sold you?"

"FINE!" said William.

XXII

FORESHADOWINGS

Now the last rose had blown; the dandelion globes were long since on the
wind; gladioli and golden-glow and salvia were here; the season moved
toward asters and