“No; nothing will help that. It would seem that we could move the hearts of those two women, but my mother is hard as adamant.” “And my aunt is hard as nails. After all these years they’re not going to be moved by a pair of broken young hearts.” “No; mother says that because I’m so young, my heart will heal up in plenty of time to break over somebody else.” “Pleasant thought!” “Oh, mother doesn’t try to be pleasant about it. She makes my life a burden by harping on my undutifulness and all that,—and when she isn’t bally-ragging me, Kate is.” “Kate! A servant!” “But Kate doesn’t look upon herself as a servant, exactly. She’s lady’s maid now,—to mother and me,—but she was my nurse, you know, and she thinks she sort of owns me. Anyway, she acts so.” “And she stands for the feud?” “Rath-er! She believes in the feud and all its works. And she’s a spy, too. If she hadn’t believed my yarn that I was headed for Janet’s to-day, she’d been downstairs trailing me!” “Clever Dork, to outwit her!” “That’s nothing—I’m clever enough to hoodwink her and mother, too, but I don’t want to. I hate it, Rick; I hate anything underhanded or deceitful. Only my love for you made me come out here to-day.” The big, dark eyes looked wistfully into Bates’ blue ones. The troubled look on Dorcas’ dear little face stirred the depths of his soul, and his heart struggled between his appreciation of her high-mindedness and his yearning love. “I want you, Dorrie,” he said, simply; “I want you terribly,—desperately,—and I—I admit it—would be willing to take you on any terms. I’d run away with you in a minute, if you’d go! To be sure, I honor your truthfulness and all that,—but, oh, little girl, can’t you put me ahead of your mother?” “I don’t know,——” “You’re hesitating! You’ve thought about it! Oh, Dork, will you?” “There, there, don’t go so fast! No, I won’t! But, tell me this: Would your uncle stand for it,—and let you go on with your own work?” “Oh, no! It’s Buns or nothing with him and me. But I’m his heir, if he should drop off suddenly, I’d have his whole fortune——” “Dead men’s shoes! Oh, Ricky, for shame?” “Not at all. If he can make a will, I can talk about it. And he told me he has made a will in my favor,—but he’s going to change it if I don’t adopt his Buns.” “What nonsense,—even to think about it. Let him change it, then, for you’ll never be a Bun man!” “I wonder if it would help matters if you met Uncle Binney?” “Let’s try it. Though I’m sure I should call him Uncle Bunny! Does he like girls?” “Adores them,—that is, some sorts. He likes nice girls properly. He likes naughty girls,—perhaps improperly. But the girls in the house,—the elevator kids and the telephone girls, he just hates.” “Hates?” “They irritate him somehow. He thinks all such positions should be filled by men or boys. He says the war is over, and he wants all the girls taken off those jobs.” “How unjust and unreasonable.”