"He's trying to find out what's the matter," she thought gratefully, "and he'll do it, too, if anybody can; 'course it's natural that he's awful unhappy about Miss Lola, but it looks to me like that ain't all; somehow he seems to me more like he was afraid of something." As she passed down the hall on her way to the front door, the bell rang, and she, anxious that the sleeper should not be disturbed, opened the door quickly. There in the hall stood a slender young fellow in the dark-blue uniform of the navy. His face, what little of it that was not hidden behind quite the widest smile that mortal countenance ever wore, was tanned to about the shade of a fashionable summer shoe, and above it his yellow hair made a symphony in color very good to look upon. At least this seemed to be Maria's opinion, for at the first sight of him a look of gladness came into her eyes, the like of which many a man goes through his whole life without ever once seeing. "Mr. Barnes! Oh, Mr. Barnes!" "Maria," he said or rather roared in greeting. "Hush!" She put her finger quickly to her lips. "He's asleep; whisper." "Maria," he repeated obediently, in what passed with him as a whisper, but the sound of which rushed whistling down the narrow hall like a deep sea breeze. "Don't whisper; talk natural," she suggested hurriedly. "Here, come into the front room an' I'll close the door. I'm awful glad to hear your voice, Mr. Barnes, but I do wish you could keep from lettin' all the neighbors hear it." Once in the room and the door shut, she lost her air of severity, however; he was so tall and strong and had such a way with him that when he opened his arms and smiled so invitingly, she surrendered completely, and allowed him to embrace her with an ardor that completely took her breath away. "Ha, ha, ha!" he roared gleefully; "maybe this is bad." "Mr. Barnes! However did you get here?" "Five days' shore leave. The ship's anchored off Ninety-fifth Street. Say, this ain't so bad, is it?" "It's, it's mighty nice!" He was so delighted by her admission that he roared again, but her alarmed look sobered him, and lowering his voice as much as possible, he faced her with a look he meant to be one of great severity and determination, a look that he had practiced carefully for the occasion before a little mirror in the ward room of the battleship. "Ain't you well, Mr. Barnes?" she enquired anxiously. "Well," he responded indignantly, "why shouldn't I be well? I'm here to get to cases. You've been writing me fine letters lately, Maria, easy to read, and the spelling getting more usual every day." "Thank you, Mr. Barnes." "But letters ain't no good when folks has really got anything to say. So I'm here to ask when it is going to be?" "What going to be?" "You said you was going to marry me, didn't you?" "Well--I--yes--I did." "Then what's the use of jiggling?"