are-jawed
American engineer who won the Crown Princess of Piffle from her father
in a poker game, but decided at the last minute to bestow her upon his
old college friend, the Russian heir-apparent, just to preserve the
peace of Europe. I remember I found you crying over the great
renunciation one day."

"Oh, I've passed that all up, Colonel. I'm strong for the pale high-brow
business now. I'm doing time in all the night classes at Elizabeth House
where I board, and you'll hardly know your little Rose pretty soon."

"Fitting yourself for one of the learned professions?"

"Scarcely. Just fitting myself to be decent," replied Rose in a tone
that shifted the key of the conversation--a change which the Colonel
respected.

"That's right, Rose. This is a good place for you, and so is Mrs. Owen's
boarding-house. By the way, who's this school-teacher Aunt Sally has
taken up--saw her at the party-great chum of the old lady's."

"You must mean Miss Sylvia."

"Sylvia?"

"Miss Sylvia Garrison. Colonel Ramsay," continued Rose earnestly,
resting an elbow lightly on her typewriter, "you and I are old pals--you
remember that first winter I was over at the State House?"

"Very well, Rose."

"Well, it wasn't a good place for me to be. But I was a kid and hadn't
much sense. I've learned a good deal since then. It ain't so easy to
walk straight; so many people are careless about leaving banana peelings
lying round."

The Colonel nodded.

"You needn't apologize to me, Rose. It's all right now, is it?"

"You can be dead sure of it, Colonel. Miss Garrison caught me by the
heel of my shoe, just as I was going down the third time, and yanked me
back. There's a good many cheap imitations of human beings loose around
this world, but that's a woman, I can tell you!"

"Glad you struck a good friend, Rose. You did well to come along with
Harwood."

"Well, she fixed that, too, after I cut loose from _him_--you
understand? I guess Miss Garrison and Mr. Harwood are pretty good
friends."

"Oh!" ejaculated Ramsay. "So there's that, is there?"

"I hope so; they're all white and speak the same language. This is on
the dead. I'm only talking to you because you're an old friend."

An occasional roar from within testified to Mr. Pettit's continued
enjoyment of his own jokes.

"You know," Rose continued, "I learned a good deal those winters I spent
at the State House, when I was stenog to certain senate committees. I
see where you stan