ing a glance at Judith and her companion, as he accosted me.
"I don't mind it," I responded, "so long as I have something pleasant to talk about."
"But suppose you had not," he persisted, laughing. "Suppose all the pleasure which you had been looking forward to had proved to be only—let me see—don't you say Dead Sea fruit?"
"Yes, I say it sometimes; but I should think you rarely had occasion to say so."
He looked at me with a face which told that he was amused and surprised.
"How cynical you are! So life is supposed to be all bright for me, and all bitter for you?"
"I did not say that!" I retorted angrily. "I am not such a child. I only meant that I was subject to attacks of the blues; and I don't believe you are."
His gaze travelled past me, and out of the window.
"I misunderstood you," he said quietly. "Pardon me."
I always seem to be at a disadvantage with George. If I lose my temper, or make a foolish speech, it is sure to be when he is present.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he were annoyed; and I sighed audibly.
My companion turned his eyes from the landscape, and glanced at me with a half-amused expression.
"What is the matter? Do you feel an attack of the blues coming on?"
"It is nothing to laugh at," I returned, with some
