in the evening pennoyer conducted florinda to the flat of many fire-escapes. after a period of silent tramping through the great golden avenue and the street that was being repaired, she said, "penny, you are very good to me."

"why?" said pennoyer.

"oh, because you are. you—you are very good to me, penny."

"well, i guess i'm not killing myself."

"there isn't many fellows like you."

"no?"

"no. there isn't many fellows like you, penny. i tell you 'most everything, and you just listen, and don't argue with me and tell me i'm a fool, because you know that it—because you know that it can't be helped, anyhow."

"oh, nonsense, you kid! almost anybody would be glad to——"

"penny, do you think she is very beautiful?" florinda's voice had a singular quality of awe in it.

"well," replied pennoyer, "i don't know."

"yes, you do, penny. go ahead and tell me."

"well——"

"go ahead."

"well, she is rather handsome, you know."

"yes," said florinda, dejectedly, "i suppose she is." after a time she cleared her throat and remarked indifferently, "i suppose billie cares a lot for her?"

"oh, i imagine that he does—in a way."

"why, of course he does," insisted florinda. "what do you mean by 'in a way'? you know very well that billie thinks his eyes of her."

"no, i don't."

"yes, you do. you know you do. you are talking in that way just to brace me up. you know you are."

"no, i'm not."

"penny," said florinda thankfully, "what makes you so good to me?"

"oh, i guess i'm not so astonishingly good to you. don't be silly."

"but you are good to me, penny. you don't make fun of me the way—the way the other boys would. you are just as good as you can be.—but you do think she is beautiful, don't you?"

"they wouldn't make fun of you," said pennoyer.

"but do you think she is beautiful?"

"look here, splutter, let up on that, will you? you keep harping on one string all the time. don't bother me!"

"but, honest now, penny, you do think she is beautiful?"

"well, then, confound it—no! no! no!"

"oh, yes, you do, penny. go ahead now. don't deny it just because you are talking to me. own up, now, penny. you do think she is beautiful?"

"well," said pennoyer, in a dull roar of irritation, "do you?"

florinda walked in silence, her eyes upon the yellow flashes which lights sent to the pavement. in the end she said, "yes."

"yes, what?" asked pennoyer sharply.

"yes, she—yes, she is—beautiful."

"well, then?" cried pennoyer, abruptly closing the discussion.

florinda announced something as a fact. "billie thinks his eyes of her."

"how do you know he does?"

"don't scold at me, penny. you—you——"

"i'm not scolding at you. there! what a goose you are, splutter! don't, for heaven's sake, go to whimpering on the street! i didn't say anything to make you feel that way. come, pull yourself together."

"i'm not whimpering."

"no, of course not; but then you look as if you were on the edge of it. what a little idiot!"