Feeling better immediately, I got Sis out of the room and coaxed Hannah to bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it out of the pantry I was dressing, and soon, as a new being, I was out on the stone bench at the foot of the lawn, gazing with rapt eyes at the sea. But fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and came over. He had but recently been put in long trousers, and those not his best ones but only white flannels. He was never sure of his garters, and was always looking to see if his socks were coming down. Well, he came over just as I was sure I saw Reginald Beecher next door on the veranda, and made himself a nuisance right away, trying all sorts of kid tricks, such as snapping a rubber band at me, and pulling out hairpins. But I felt that I must talk to someone. So I said: "Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a career, which would it be?" "Why not both," he said, hitching the rubber band onto one of his front teeth and playing on it. "Neither ought to take up all a fellow's time. Say, listen to this! Talk about a ukelele!" "A woman can never have both." He played a while, strumming with one finger until the hand slipped off and stung him on the lip. "Once," I said, "I dreamed of a career. But I believe love's the most important." Well, I shall pass lightly over what followed. Why is it that a girl cannot speak of love without every member of the other sex present, no matter how young, thinking it is he? And as for mother maintaining that I kissed that wretched child, and they saw me from the drawing-room, it is not true and never was true. It was but one more misunderstanding which convinced the family that I was carrying on all manner of affairs. Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the Perkins' cottage. I got rid of the Perkins' baby, as his nose was bleeding--but I had not slapped him hard at all, and felt little or no compunction--when I heard Carter coming down the walk. He had called to see Leila, but she had gone to a beach dance and left him alone. He never paid any attention to me when she was around, and I received him coolly. "Hello!" he said. "Well?" I replied. "Is that the way you greet me, Bab?" "It's the way I would greet most any left-over," I said. "I eat hash at school, but I don't have to pretend to like it." "I came to see YOU." "How youthful of you!" I replied, in stinging tones. He sat down on a bench and stared at me. "What's got into you lately?" he said. "Just as you're getting to be the prettiest girl around, and I'm strong for you, you--you turn into a regular rattlesnake." The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so few kind words had come recently. I am compelled to confess that I wept, although I had not expected to, and indeed shed few tears, although bitter ones.