t present are--" he was just
about to say "six shirts of imported gingham" but he bethought himself
that she would be certain to demand to see them, so he finished lamely
with--"my game of golf, and my new dogs."

"What kind of dogs?"

"Belgian police dogs."

"Where do you keep them?"

"I haven't taken them over yet."

"I heard that you had bought a place up in Westchester, but I asked
Nancy, and she said she didn't know. I don't think Nancy appreciates
you, Dick."

"That so often happens."

"I mean that seriously."

"It's a serious matter--being appreciated. The only person who I ever
thought really appreciated me was Billy's old aunt. Every time she saw
me she used to say to me, 'You're such a clean-looking young man I
can't take my eyes off you.'"

"You _are_ clean-looking, and awfully good-looking too."

"Do you mind if I smoke, Betty?" Dick carefully disengaged his hand
from her clinging fingers, and a look of something like intelligence
passed between them, before Betty turned her ingenuous child's stare
on him again.

"Not if you'll give me a cigarette, too."

Dick fumbled through his pockets.

"It's awfully stupid, but I haven't any about me," he said, fingering
what he knew that she knew to be the well filled case he always
carried in his inner pocket. He did not approve of women smoking.

But "Poor Dicky!" was all she said.

"Your fifteen minutes are up, Betty," he said presently, taking out
his watch.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to go then."

Dick rose politely.

"You really don't care whether I go or stay, do you?" she sighed.

"I would rather have you go, Betty," he said gravely.

Betty's eyes filled with sudden tears, that Dick to his surprise
realized were genuine.

"I wanted you to want me to stay," she said incoherently.

"I suppose you're just a miserable little thing that doesn't want to
be alone," he concluded. "Come, I'll take you home."

The telephone bell on the table beside him rang sharply.

"I'm just going out," he said to Billy, on the wire. "Betty is here
with a fit of the blues. I'm going to take her home. Ride up with us,
will you?"

"He'll meet us down-stairs in ten minutes," he said. "I'll order a
taxi."

"I don't want to see Billy," Betty said rebelliously. She rose
suddenly, pulling on her gloves, and took a step forward as if about
to brush by him petulantly, but as she did so she staggered, put her
hand to her eyes, and fell forward against his bre