HEART OF THE CITY
delphia boy who tutors with my father in the sum- mers."
Her youthfulness was almost as frank as fever, and, though taking advantage of this frankness seemed quite as reprehensible as taking advantage of any other kind of babbling delirium, the Journalist felt somehow obliged to pursue his investigations.
"Nice boy?" he suggested tactfully.
The Girl's nose crinkled just a little bit tighter.
The Journalist frowned. "I'll wager you two dozen squirrels out of Central Park," he said," that Peter is head over heels in love with you!"
The Girl's mouth twisted a trifle, but her eyes were absolutely solemn. " I suppose that he is," she answered gravely, "but he's never taken the trouble to tell me so, and he's been with us three summers. I suppose lots of men are made like that. You read about it in books. They want to sew just as long long long a seam as they possibly can without tying any knot in the thread. Peter, I know, wants to make perfectly Philadel- phia-sure that he won't meet any girl in the winters whom he likes better."
"I think that sort of thing is mighty mean, "in- terposed the Journalist sympathetically.
"Mean?" cried the Girl. "Mean?" Her tousley yellow hair seemed fairly electrified with as-
tonishment, and her big blue eyes brimmed suddenly
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