"We won't discuss the matter in detail," returned Hippy with dignity. "I am prepared to prove the truth of what I say. I will now render a selection from 'Il Trovatore.' I will sing the imprisoned lover's song--" "Not if I have anything to say about it," growled Reddy. "Suit yourself, suit yourself," declared Hippy, shrugging his shoulders. "You boys will be sorry if you don't let me sing, though." "Is that a threat?" inquired Tom Gray with pretended belligerence. "A threat?" repeated Hippy. "No, it is a fact. I am contemplating a terrible revenge. That is, I haven't really begun to contemplate it yet. I am just getting ready. But when I do start--well, you'll see." "I think it would be delightful to hear you sing, 'Ah, I Have Sighed to Rest Me,' Hippy," broke in Nora sweetly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Can I believe my ears? The stony, unsympathetic Nora O'Malley agrees with me at last. She likes my voice; she wishes to hear me sing, 'Ah, I Have Sighed to Rest Me.' 'Tis true, I _have_ sighed to rest me a great many times, particularly in the morning when the alarm clock put an end to my dreams. It is a beautiful selection." "Then, why not sing it?" asked Nora demurely. "Because I don't know it," replied Hippy promptly. "Just as I suspected," commented Nora in disgust. "That is precisely why I asked you to sing." "What made you suspect me?" inquired Hippy, apparently impressed. "I suspected you on general principles," was the retort. "If you had had any general principles you wouldn't have suspected me," parried Hippy. "I won't even think about you the next time," was the withering reply. Nora rose and made her way to the other end of the veranda, perching on the porch railing beside Tom Gray. "Come back, Nora," wailed Hippy. "You may suspect me." "Isn't he too ridiculous for anything?" whispered Nora, smothering a giggle and trying to look severe. Her attempt failed ignominiously when Hippy, with an exaggeratedly contrite expression on his fat face, sidled up to her, salaamed profoundly, lost his balance and sprawled on all fours at her feet. A shout of merriment arose from his friends. Hippy, unabashed, scrambled to his feet and began bowing again before Nora, this time taking care not to bend too far forward. "You are forgiven, Hippy," declared Miriam. "Nora, don't allow your old friend and playmate to dislocate his spine in his efforts to show his sorrow." "You may stop bowing," said Nora grudgingly. "I suppose I'll have to forgive you." Hippy promptly straightened up and perched himself on the railing beside Nora. "I didn't say you might sit here," teased Nora. "I know it," replied Hippy coolly. "Still, you would be deeply, bitterly disappointed if I didn't." "Perhaps I should," admitted Nora. "I suppose you might as well stay," she added with affected carelessness. "Thank you," retorted Hippy. "But I had made up my mind not to move."