now."

"I know you could. You could paint him far better than that."

She laughed, quickly repentant. "I didn't say that to be horrid. I
only said it for fun. I couldn't."

"And I know you could." He rose and stood without his crutch, looking
down on her. "And you're not 'too long drawn out,' are you? See? You
only come up to--about--here on me." He measured with his hand a
little below his chin.

"I don't care. You're not so awfully tall."

"Very well, have it so. That only makes you the shorter."

"I tell you I don't care. You'd better stop staring at me, if I'm so
little, and read your letter. The man's waiting for it. That's why I
ran all the way up here." By this it may be seen that Betty had lost
all her awe of the young soldier. Maybe it left her when he doffed his
uniform. "Here's your crutch. Doesn't it hurt you to stand alone?" She
reached him the despised prop.

"Hurt me to stand alone? No! I'm not a baby. Do you think I'm likely
to grow up bow-legged?" he thundered, taking it from her hand without
a thank you, and glaring down on her humorously. "You're a bit cruel
to remind me of it. I'm going to walk with a cane hereafter, and next
thing you know you'll see me stalking around without either."

"Why, Peter Junior! I'd be so proud of that crutch I wouldn't leave it
off for anything! I'd always limp a little, even if I didn't use it.
Cruel? I was complimenting you."

"Complimenting me? How?"

"By reminding you that you had been brave--and had been a soldier--and
had been wounded for your country--and had been promoted--and--"

But Peter drowned her voice with uproarious laughter, and suddenly
surprised himself as well as her by slipping his arm around her waist
and stopping her lips with a kiss.

Betty was surprised but not shocked. She knew of no reason why Peter
should not kiss her even though it was not his custom to treat her
thus. In Betty's home, demonstrative expressions of affection were as
natural as sunlight, and why should not Peter like her? Therefore it
was Peter who was shocked, and embarrassed her with his sudden
apology.

"I don't care if you did kiss me. You're just like my big brother--the
same as Richard is--and he often used to kiss me." She was trying to
set Peter at his ease. "And, anyway, I like you. Why, I supposed of
course you liked me--only naturally not as much as I liked you."

"Oh, more! Much more!" he stammered tremblingly. He knew in his heart
that there was a