"Jane, I am thinking of buying an automobile. Not a Limousine, but somthing styleish and fast. I must have Speed, if nothing else."

She stopped eating a caromel and gave me a stunned look.

"What for?"

"For emergencies."

"Then they disaprove of him?" she said, in a low, tence voice.

"They know but little, although what they suspect--Jane," I said, my bitterness bursting out, "what am I now? Nothing. A prisoner, or the equivalent of such, forbiden everything because I am to young! My Soul hampered by being taken to the country where there is nothing to do, given a pony cart, although but 20 months younger than Leila, and not going to come out until she is married, or permanently engaged."

"It IS hard," said Jane. "Heart-breaking, Bab."

We sat, in deep and speachless gloom. At last Jane said:

"Has she anyone in sight?"

"How do I know? They keep me away at School all year. I am but a stranger here, although I try hard to be otherwise."

"Because we might help along, if there is anyone. To get her married is your only hope, Bab. They're afraid of you. That's all. You're the tipe to atract Men, except your noze, and you could help that by pulling it.

My couzin did that, only she did it to much, and made it pointed."

I looked in my mirror and sighed. I have always desired an aristocratic noze, but a noze cannot be altered like teeth, unless broken and then generaly not improved.

"I have tried a sh.e.l.l hair pin at night, but it falls off when I go to sleep," I said, in a despondant manner.

We sat for some time, eating caromels and thinking about Leila, because there was nothing to do with my noze, but Leila was diferent.

"Although," Jane said, "you will never be able to live your own Life until she is gone, Bab."

"There is Carter Brooks," I suggested. "But he is poor. And anyhow she is not in Love with him."

"Leila is not one to care about Love," said Jane. "That makes it eazier."

"But whom?" I said. "Whom, Jane?"

We thought and thought, but of course it was hard, for we knew none of those who filled my sister's life, or sent her flours and so on.

At last I said:

"There must be a way, Jane. THERE MUST BE. And if not, I shall make one.

For I am desparate. The mere thought of going back to school, when I am as old as at present and engaged also, is madening."

But Jane held out a warning hand.

"Go slow, dearie," she said, in a solemn tone. "Do nothing rash.

Remember this, that she is your sister, and should be hapily married if at all. Also she needs one with a strong hand to control her. And such are not easy to find. You must not ruin her Life."

Considering the fatal truth of that, is it any wonder that, on contemplateing the events that folowed, I am ready to cry, with the great poet Hood: 1835-1874: whose numerous works we studied during the spring term:

Alas, I have walked through life To heedless where I trod; Nay, helping to trampel my fellow worm, And fill the burial sod.

II

If I were to write down all the surging thoughts that filled my brain this would have to be a Novel instead of a Short Story. And I am not one who beleives in beginning the life of Letters with a long work. I think one should start with breif Romanse. For is not Romanse itself but breif, the thing of an hour, at least to the Other s.e.x?

Women and girls, having no interest outside their hearts, such as baseball and hockey and earning saleries, are more likely to hug Romanse to their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, until it is finaly drowned in their tears.

I pa.s.s over the next few days, therfore, mearly stating that my AFFAIRE DE COUER went on rapidly, and that Leila was sulkey AND HAD NO MALE VISITORS. On the day after the Ball Game Tom took me for a walk, and in a corner of the park, he took my hand and held it for quite a while.

He said he had never been a hand-holder, but he guessed it was time to begin. Also he remarked that my noze need not worry me, as it exactly suited my face and nature.

"How does it suit my nature?" I asked.

"It's--well, it's cute."

"I do not care about being cute, Tom," I said ernestly. "It is a word I despize."

"Cute means kissible, Bab!" he said, in an ardent manner.

"I don't beleive in kissing."

"Well," he observed, "there is kissing and kissing."

But a nurse with a baby in a perambulater came along just then and nothing happened worth recording. As soon as she had pa.s.sed, however, I mentioned that kissing was all right if one was engaged, but not otherwise. And he said:

"But we are, aren't we?"

Although understood before, it had now come in full force. I, who had been but Barbara Archibald before, was now engaged. Could it be I who heard my voice saying, in a low tone, the "yes" of Destiny? It was!

We then went to the corner drug-store and had some soda, although forbiden by my Familey because of city water being used. How strange to me to recall that I had once thought the Clerk nice-looking, and had even purchaced things there, such as soap and chocolate, in order to speak a few words to him!

I was engaged, dear Reader, but not yet kissed. Tom came into our vestabule with me, and would doubtless have done so when no one was pa.s.sing, but that George opened the door suddenly.

However, what difference, when we had all the rest of our Lives to kiss in? Or so I then considered.

Carter Brooks came to dinner that night because his people were out of town, and I think he noticed that I looked mature and dignafied, for he stared at me a lot. And father said:

"Bab, you're not eating. Is it possable that that boarding school hollow of yours is filling up?"

One's Familey is apt to translate one's finest Emotions into terms of food and drink. Yet could I say that it was my Heart and not my Stomache that was full? I could not.

During dinner I looked at Leila and wondered how she could be married off. For until so I would continue to be but a Child, and not allowed to be engaged or anything. I thought if she would eat some starches it would help, she being pretty but thin. I therfore urged her to eat potatos and so on, because of evening dress and showing her coller bones, but she was quite nasty.

"Eat your dinner," she said in an unfraternal maner, "and stop watching me. They're MY bones."