lover back to serenity.

"If you would only let me do one thing before I go," he said, getting
courage enough from her kindness to propose an idea that had been in his
mind ever since he arrived.

"What is it, _Monsieur Exigeant_?"

"Just let me tell Grant of our--our--"

"Our what, stammerer?"

"Of the happiness you have promised me," said Tom, changing the original
word from fear of vexing her.

"You were going to say engagement; don't deny it."

"And aren't we engaged?" he pleaded.

"Not a bit of it, Mr. Tom Fuller; I am just as free as air; please to
remember that."

"Oh, Elsie!"

"And Elsie oh!" cried she. "But it's true! You said all sorts of foolish
things about love, and I let you talk, but what right have you to say we
are engaged?"

Tom instantly became so nervous that he could not sit still.

"Oh, Elsie, Elsie, how can you?" he pleaded.

"Now, aren't you deliciously miserable," said Elsie; "that is the way I
like to see you; it's your duty, sir."

"I wouldn't think you so cruel at such a time."

"Oh, wouldn't you? And pray what right have you to think at all; no man
has a right; that's another female privilege."

"You are worse than the Women's Rights people," said he.

"Now you are calling me names," cried Elsie, indignantly. "I won't stay
with you another moment."

She half rose, but Tom caught her dress.

"Oh, don't go, don't!"

"Go on your knees then, and beg my pardon," said Elsie.

"No," said Tom, "I'll do no such thing."

"Ah, do now, just to please, you know."

Down went Tom in dumb obedience. After enjoying his distress and
penitence for a few moments, Elsie suddenly threw both her arms about
his neck, and whispered:

"I am very sorry you are going. I do love you dearly, Tom!"

He strained her to his heart with a burst of grateful delight.

"And may I tell Grant?" he pleaded.

"Not yet," she said; "wait till you come back; not a word till then."

"But as soon as I come?"

"Yes; if you are good. But not a look till I say the word."

She tried to escape from him, but he would not let her go until he had
extorted one other pledge.

"You must write to me," he said.

"Now, Tom, I hate to write letters! I never write even to Grant, when I
can possibly help it."

"But just a few words--"

"If you will behave yourself properly, perhaps yes."

"Every day?"

"Oh, worse and worse! Tom, get up. I hear Mary Harrington's voice; she's
the most inveterate gossip."