es and heroines, and began to study the stately and
exaggerated characteristics of the various characters. Sylvia had
purchased it for her seven-year old boy Jack, asleep upstairs, but
Frieda had read it in her girlhood a few years before. She had been
moving restlessly about, conscious of an interest in Eugene but not
knowing how to find an opportunity for conversation. His smile, which he
sometimes directed toward her, was to her entrancing.

"Oh, I read that," she said, when she saw him looking at it. She had
drifted to a position not far behind his chair and near one of the
windows. She pretended to be looking out at first, but now began to talk
to him. "I used to be crazy about every one of the Knights and
Ladies--Sir Launcelot, Sir Galahad, Sir Tristram, Sir Gawaine, Queen
Guinevere."

"Did you ever hear of Sir Bluff?" he asked teasingly, "or Sir Stuff? or
Sir Dub?" He looked at her with a mocking light of humor in his eyes.

"Oh, there aren't such people," laughed Frieda, surprised at the titles
but tickled at the thought of them.

"Don't you let him mock you, Frieda," put in Angela, who was pleased at
the girl's gayety and glad that Eugene had found someone in whom he
could take an interest. She did not fear the simple Western type of girl
like Frieda and her own sister Marietta. They were franker, more kindly,
better intentioned than the Eastern studio type, and besides they did
not consider themselves superior. She was playing the role of the
condescending leader here.

"Certainly there are," replied Eugene solemnly, addressing Frieda. "They
are the new Knights of the Round Table. Haven't you ever heard of that
book?"

"No, I haven't," answered Frieda gaily, "and there isn't any such.
You're just teasing me."

"Teasing you? Why I wouldn't think of such a thing. And there is such a
book. It's published by Harper and Brothers and is called 'The New
Knights of the Round Table.' You simply haven't heard of it, that's
all."

Frieda was impressed. She didn't know whether to believe him or not. She
opened her eyes in a curiously inquiring girlish way which appealed to
Eugene strongly. He wished he were free to kiss her pretty, red,
thoughtlessly-parted lips. Angela herself was faintly doubtful as to
whether he was speaking of a real book or not.

"Sir Stuff is a very famous Knight," he went on, "and so is Sir Bluff.
They're inseparable companions in the book. As for Sir Dub and Sir Hack,
and the Lady Dope