ty--_so very pretty_--as she did now in her white
dress, with the moonlight filtering through the foliage upon her fair
hair and her face (turned full of liking and undisguised admiration upon
him) and her lovely arms, bared to the elbow. She had an ethereal,
fairy-like appearance that was bewitching, and in his despondent mood,
her frank praise was more than sweet. Still his answer was as bitter as
ever,

"Oh, well, what does it all amount to? They would say the same of any
acrobat in a circus whose joints were a bit more limber than those of
the rest of his tribe. That does not remove their contempt for me,
personally."

"I don't feel contempt for you, Eddie," she gently replied--just
breathing it.

(Myra was really wonderful tonight. He had not known her voice could
have so much color in it; and the white flower in her hair--a
cape-jessamine, its excessively sweet fragrance told him--gave her pale
beauty the touch of romance it had always lacked). The poetic eyes that
looked into hers mellowed, the cynical voice softened:

"Don't you Myra? Well, you'd better cultivate it. Its the fashion, and
it's the only feeling I'm worth."

"Eddie," she said earnestly--tenderly, "I want you to promise me that
you won't talk that way any more--at least not to _me_--it hurts me."

Her hand, on his sleeve, was as fair as a petal from the jessamine
flower in her hair. He took it gently in his.

"Dear little Myra, little playmate--" he said. "You are my friend, I
know, and have been since we were mere babies, in spite of knowing, as
you do, what a naughty, idle, disobedient boy I've been, deserving every
flogging and scolding I've gotten and utterly unworthy all the good
things that have come my way--including your dear friendship."

"You are breaking your promise already," she said. "You _shall not_ run
yourself down to me. I think you are the nicest boy in town!"

There was nothing complex about Myra. Her mind was an open book, and he
suddenly found he liked it so--liked it tremendously. Her unveiled
avowal of preference for him was most soothing to his restless,
dissatisfied mood.

"Thank you, Myra," he said tenderly, kissing the flower-petal hand
before he laid it down. He had a strong impulse to kiss _her_, but
resisted it, with an effort, and abruptly changed the subject.

"Did you know that we are going to move?" he asked. "And that I'm going
to the University next winter?"

"_To move_?" she questioned, aghast. "W