“I don't know about forgiving you for that, but I 'm so grateful you did n't take me to the lock-up that I suppose I ought not to mind the shaking.” “But, Miss Maynard, you surely don't think I was in earnest about that?” he exclaimed, in strenuous deprecation. “I don't know, I 'm sure,” she said doubtfully. “You looked as if you were capable of it.” He was going on to protest still farther when she interrupted him, and said laughingly:-- “You take to apologizing so naturally that I 'd nearly forgotten that it was not you but I who was the real culprit. I must really make a few excuses myself before I hear any more from you.” And then she told him all about her brother Charley's letter, and the spirit of emulation that had got her into trouble. It was easy enough to joke about certain aspects of the matter; but when she came to talk in plain language about her performances that night, she became so much embarrassed and stumbled so badly that Arthur felt very ill at ease. “And when I think what _would_ have happened if I 'd fallen into anybody's hands but yours, you seem almost like a deliverer.” At which Arthur had another access of humiliation to think how un-chivalrously he had treated this princess in disguise. How he would like to catch somebody else abusing her that way! And then he told her all that he had thought and felt about her during the stealing scene, and she gave her side of the drama, to their intense mutual interest. “Is n't it about time we were going home, Arthur?” said Amy's voice. He glanced up. The room was nearly empty, and the party from the Seminary were waiting for Lina. “Miss Maynard, may I call upon you in New York during vacation?” “I should be happy to see you.” “_Au revoir_, then!” “_Au revoir!_” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hooking Watermelons, by Edward Bellamy