t him quickly, but his head was turned away. Her own heart began to
beat nervously. She felt the magnetic current of his emotion vibrating
through her being. Her eyes opened wide in wonder. She had for so long
accustomed herself to the idea that Teddy was her own peculiar property,
and that, of course, she intended to marry him, that but for his
half-distressed perturbation, she would have thought no more of the
momentous "Yes" than of voicing some long-formed opinion. Now his
throbbing excitement had become contagious. She found herself fluttering
and tongue-tied. Though she realized suddenly that their ridiculous
child's-play had turned to earnest, she could not find word or look to
ease the strain. They walked on in silence, step for step, in a sort of
mechanical rhythmic physical understanding. Suddenly he spoke.

"Dolly, I wish you'd punch old Marcus!"

The remark was so unexpected that Dorothy slipped a beat in her step and
shuffled quickly to fall in tune.

"Good Gracious!--what for?" Her surprise was unfeigned.

"Because he won't let me give him the Heim Vandyke--wants to buy it,
insists on buying it. Asked me to let him have it--and then won't accept
it. Now, do me a favor, will you? You _make_ him take it. You're the
only person who can boss him--and he likes to have you do it. Will you
see him to-day, and fix it?"

"Well of all!--Why, _I_ can't make him do anything he doesn't want to
do. Of course, he ought to take it, if you want to give it to him; but I
really don't see--I wonder--" She meditated for a full block in silence.
"I'm going to lunch with him and Miss Gard and Mother. If I can,
I'll--no, I _can't_. It's none of my business. It's up to you. How can I
say--'You ought to do what Teddy says'? He'd tell me I was an
impertinent little girl, and that he knew how he wanted to deal with
little boys without being told by their desk-mates."

Teddy scowled. He wanted to get back to the barnyard he had left so
abruptly, impelled by his new and unaccountable fright. But having
hitched himself to his new subject of conversation, he felt somehow
compelled to drag at it. It was up-hill work. To be sure, he had come to
Dorothy for the purpose of soliciting her help, but Gard and Vandyke had
both lost interest. Against his will he kept on talking.

"Well, I've done everything I can to make him see my point of view. I've
told him I owe it to him; that Father would want him to have it; that
I'll give his money