my was a girl nearly sixteen.
"My--I mean Mr. Brooks."
"Who else?"
The girl did not answer.
"Come, Amy, who else do you love?"
"You are real mean."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"You know."
"I do?"
"Yes."
"I don't want to be mean, but tell me who else you love?"
"I won't."
"You won't?"
"No."
There was bantering in the tones of both these young people at that
moment.
"Shall I tell you who I love?"
"Yes."
"I love my mother."
"You can't help it."
"I have learned to love Mr. Brooks, your--I mean--well, Mr. Brooks."
In a tantalizing tone the girl asked:
"Who else?"
"Oh, you're real mean," said Desmond, imitating Amy's tone at the
moment she had made the same remark to him.
"I don't want to be mean."
"You don't?"
"No."
"Will you keep my secret?"
"Yes," came the eager answer.
"Honor bright?"
"Yes, honor bright."
"You won't tell even my mother?"
The girl did not answer.
"Come, promise."
"I promise."
"I've met a girl I love, and I've made you my confidante, but don't tell
my mother."
Amy had turned desperately pale, and in a pettish, trembling tone, she
said:
"Yes, I will tell your mother."
"You promised not to do so."
"I don't care, I'll break my promise."
"Oh, Amy, you are real mean."
"I can't help it if I am."
"You can't?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I am mad--real mad."
"You are?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you went and fell in love with a girl; it's ridiculous,
anyway."
"It is?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"You are only a boy."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"What are you, pray? you are only a girl."
"I know it."
"I couldn't fall in love with a mere girl, could I?"
"Yes, you could."
Desmond laughed in a merry manner, and said:
"Well, to tell the truth, I did fall in love with a mere girl. Do you
want to hear about her?"
"No."
"You don't?"
"No, I don't."
"I am going to tell you all the same; you are the girl I've fallen in
love with."
There came a bright, happy look to Amy's beautiful face as she said:
"Oh, you are real mean."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To tell me that so suddenly."
"Well, who else do you love?"
"I love you."
"All right; go and break your promise and tell my mother," said Desmond
in a provoking tone, following his advice by encircling Amy's waist and
imprinting upon her red-hot cheek a kiss.
"You tell your mother yourself," said Amy.
"No, I won't; you said you wou
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