a, encountered Chetwood's and was
held fast.

"Mr. Chetwood!"

Without relinquishing his prize that gentleman set the pan aside and
with considerable agility seated himself beside Miss Jean.

"My full name is Eustace William Fitzroy Chetwood. I prefer the second.
William is a respectable name. Do you know what it means?"

"I didn't know it meant anything."

"Oh, yes; it means 'Bill.' I answer beautifully to 'Bill.'"

"Will--"

"'Bill'!"

"Will you please let go my hand?"

"'What we have we hold' is a good motto. It seems a sound system to hold
what I have."

Miss Jean sighed. "Then of course I can't shell peas, and you won't have
any for supper."

"Hang supper! Jean, darling, how long are you going to keep me in
suspense?"

"I'm not keeping you at all; and you mustn't call me 'darling.'"

"Are you going to keep me waiting seven years, as Rebecca kept Joseph?"

"It wasn't Rebecca or Joseph."

"Well, it doesn't matter; I had the waiting part of it right. I can feel
the strain telling on me, and when I look into your eyes--like this--"

Here Miss Jean shut her eyes. Chetwood being human did the natural
thing. Miss Jean wrenched her hand away and rubbed her cheek.

"How dare you!" she demanded with really first-class indignation.

"I don't know; but like Warren Hastings, I am astonished at my own
moderation. I should have kissed you before. And I am going to kiss you
again."

Though the prospect did not seem to dismay Miss Jean, she removed
herself swiftly to a distance of several feet, and further consolidated
her position by placing the pan of peas between them.

"Shell peas--Eustace!" she said. Chetwood ground a set of perfect teeth.

"You want to drive me crazy, I see that," he said. "You're too dangerous
to be running around loose. You need a firm hand--like mine. Now--"

What followed was very bad for the peas. Some minutes later Miss Jean,
raising hands to a flushed face and sadly tilted hat, regarded them in
dismay.

"Now see what you've done!"

Chetwood grinned. "Will you carry sweet peas?" he asked. "If we are
married early in September--"

"September!" Miss Jean gasped. "I couldn't think of such a thing,
Bil--ly!"

"You can when you get used to it," Chetwood assured her. "Like getting
into hot water, you know."

"It may be a good deal like it," Miss Jean observed reflectively.

"Eh! Oh, I didn't mean that."

"I know you didn't, but it might be true, all the same. We can't be