THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
what he says, and you are so nice to him, and you look at him in such a way!"
"Why, Kate, do you mean that I try to—" Maimie was righteously indignant.
"You perhaps don't know," continued Kate, "but you can't help being fascinating to men; you know you are, and Ranald believes you so, and—and you ought to be quite straightforward with him!" Poor Kate could no longer command her voice.
"There, now," said Maimie, caressing her friend, not unpleased with Kate's description of her; "I'm going to be good. I will just be horrid to both of them, and they'll go away! But, oh, dear, things are all wrong! Poor Ranald," she said to herself, "I wonder if he will come to the picnic on Saturday?"
Kate looked at her friend a moment and wiped away her tears.
"Indeed I hope he will not," she said, indignantly, "for I know you mean to just lead him on. I have a mind to tell him."
"Tell him what?" said Maimie, smiling.
"Just what you mean to do."
"I wish you would tell me that."
"Now I tell you, Maimie," said Kate, "if you go on with Ranald so any longer I will just tell him you are playing with him."
"Do," said Maimie, scornfully, "and be careful to make clear to him at the same time that you are speaking solely in his interest!"
Kate's face flushed red at the insinuation, and then grew pale. She stood for some time looking in silence
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