ho was evidently out of sorts.

"As much a mystery to you as it is to us, how you girls can like to
gabble and prink from one week's end to the other," retorted Tom.

There was a pause after this little passage-at-arms, but Fan wanted to
be amused, for time hung heavily on her hands, so she asked, in a more
amiable tone, "How 's Trix?"

"As sweet as ever," answered Tom, gruffly.

"Did she scold you, as usual?"

"She just did."

"What was the matter?"

"Well, I 'll leave it to you if this is n't unreasonable: she won't
dance with me herself, yet don't like me to go it with anybody else. I
said, I thought, if a fellow took a girl to a party, she ought to dance
with him once, at least, especially if they were engaged. She said that
was the very reason why she should n't do it; so, at the last hop, I let
her alone, and had a gay time with Belle, and to-day Trix gave it to me
hot and heavy, coming home from church."

"If you go and engage yourself to a girl like that, I don't know what
you can expect. Did she wear her Paris hat to-day?" added Fan, with
sudden interest in her voice.

"She wore some sort of a blue thing, with a confounded bird of Paradise
in it, that kept whisking into my face every time she turned her head."

"Men never know a pretty thing when they see it. That hat is perfectly
lovely."

"They know a lady when they see her, and Trix don't look like one; I
can't say where the trouble is, but there 's too much fuss and feathers
for my taste. You are twice as stylish, yet you never look loud or
fast."

Touched by this unusual compliment, Fanny drew her chair nearer as she
replied with complacency, "Yes, I flatter myself I do know how to dress
well. Trix never did; she 's fond of gay colors, and generally looks
like a walking rainbow."

"Can't you give her a hint? Tell her not to wear blue gloves anyway, she
knows I hate 'em."

"I 've done my best for your sake, Tom, but she is a perverse creature,
and don't mind a word I say, even about things much more objectionable
than blue gloves."

"Maudie, run and bring me my other cigar case, it 's lying round
somewhere."

Maud went; and as soon as the door was shut, Tom rose on his elbow,
saying in a cautiously lowered voice, "Fan, does Trix paint?"

"Yes, and draws too," answered Fanny, with a sly laugh.

"Come, you know what I mean; I 've a right to ask and you ought to
tell," said Tom, soberly, for he was beginning to find that being
engaged