Godfrey was very fond of little girls, and this one had interested him greatly from the time he first saw her in the cab on Caledonia Street, and now as he bent his face so close to hers that his brown curls touched her auburn hair, he could not resist the temptation, but snatched a kiss from her lips ere she was aware of his intention. Though small of stature Gertie was twelve years old, and very womanly in some respects, and at this liberty all her instincts of modesty and propriety awoke within her, and while the hot tears glittered in her eyes, which flashed angrily upon the offender, she said: “You stop! You mustn’t! You shan’t! You have no business to kiss me, Mr. Godfrey, and I am very indignant!” She wiped her lips two or three times, while Godfrey, who considered it a good joke, and was vastly amused at her rage, said to her: “Why oughtn’t I to kiss a pretty girl like you when I find her all alone?” “Because I am alone,” Gertie replied, with a very wise shake of the head. “Because men like you shouldn’t kiss girls like me whom they don’t like.” “But I do like you immensely,” Godfrey said, “and think you the prettiest girl I ever saw.” “Hush!” Gertie rejoined, with all the dignity of a woman of twenty. “You shall not talk to me like that, and you wouldn’t either if I was somebody else.” “Who, for instance?” Godfrey asked, and looking him steadily in the face, with her clear, honest eyes, Gertie said: “Mr. Godfrey, if I were one of your sisters would you have done it?” “Certainly, I have a right to kiss my sister,” Godfrey said, and Gertie continued: “I don’t mean that. I mean if you were somebody else and I was one of your sisters.” “Still wrong,” Godfrey said, “for even if I were somebody else and you my sister I would kiss you many times.” He would not understand, and Gertie glanced appealingly at Robert Macpherson, who had been listening languidly, while with an artist’s interest he attentively studied the little face which so puzzled and attracted him. As he met her glance he came a step nearer to her, and said: “Let me tell you how to put it. Suppose you are my sister?” “You are a gentleman born?” Gertie asked, while the young man colored to the roots of his hair, and answered: “I believe I am.” “Well, then,” and she turned again to Godfrey, “suppose I was his sister and you were yourself, and you found me a sick, tired little girl, sitting by myself, would you have dared to kiss me then?” There was in her manner so much sweetness and dignity withal that languid Bob roused in her behalf, and said: “If he did I’d knock him down,” while Godfrey, wholly driven to bay, answered humbly: “No, Miss Gertie, I would not, and I beg your pardon, and assure you I meant no harm, but really you looked so pretty, so _piquante_——”