hought so or not?"

"Why--well--er--yes. Honestly now, didn't you know I wanted you to say
the other thing?"

It was Mary's turn to hesitate; then she, too, laughed.

"Why, yes, I suppose--" she began; and finished with, "Yes, I did."

"Then why didn't you say it? Most girls would."

"Perhaps that is why. I judge that most girls of your acquaintance say
just about what you want them to. Don't you think it is good for you to
be told the truth occasionally?"

It was good for him, of course, and, incidentally, it had the
fascination of novelty. Here was a girl full of fun, ready to take a
joke as well as give one, neither flattering nor expecting flattery, a
country girl who had kept store, yet speaking of that phase of her life
quite as freely as she did of the fashionable Misses Cabot's school,
not at all ashamed to say she could not afford this or that, simple and
unaffected but self-respecting and proud; a girl who was at all times
herself and retained her poise and common sense even in the presence of
handsome young demigod who had made two touchdowns against Yale.

It was extremely good for Crawford Smith to know such a girl. She helped
him to keep his feet on the ground and his head from swelling. Not that
there was much danger of the latter happening, for the head was a
pretty good one, but Mary Lathrop's common sense was a stimulating--and
fascinating--reenforcement to his own. As he had said on the Sunday
afternoon of their first meeting in Boston, it was a relief to have
someone to talk to who understood and appreciated a fellow's serious
thoughts as well as the frivolous ones. His approaching graduation from
Harvard and the work which he would begin at the Medical School in the
fall were very much in his mind just now. He told Mary his plans and she
and he discussed them. She had plans of her own, principally concerning
what she meant to do to make life easier for her uncles when her school
days were over, and these also were discussed.

"But," he said, "that's really nonsense, after all, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Why, the idea of your keeping store again. You'll never do that."

"Indeed I shall! Why not?"

"Why, because--"

"Because what?"

"Because--well, because I don't think you will, that's all. Girls like
you don't have to keep a country store, you know--at least, not for
long."

The remark was intended to please; it might have pleased some girls,
but it did not please this one. Mary's dign